


the whole truth (just a little to the left)

by to-a-merrier-world (wayward_wolves)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Good guy Lotor, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Kolivan is basically Nick Fury, M/M, Minor Lotura, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Romance, Secret Identity, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Shiro was basically raised by his grandpa, Slow Burn, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Trans Male Character, Trans Shiro (Voltron), author blatantly rips off marvel and the incredibles, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_wolves/pseuds/to-a-merrier-world
Summary: “What do you do?”Shiro took a huge bite of rice right as Keith asked the question, giving himself a moment to come up with an answer.“Accounting,” he lied when he’d finally swallowed.If by ‘accounting’ he meant ‘holding criminals and villains accountable for their actions, usually with his fists,’ then yeah, sure, he was an ‘accountant.’--In which Shiro is bad at lying but good at half-truths; convinced he can’t have a relationship but falling in love anyway; and intending to build a team but ending up with a family.Or, the superhero secret identity neighbors au no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please go check out the accompanying art for this fic [here](https://nasigorengart.tumblr.com/post/177682340363/oh-man-drawing-this-was-definitely-hella-fun-and) by the wonderful nasigorengart!! They did such an amazing job, so go give them lots of love!!
> 
> Special thanks to dreaming-shark over on tumblr for being a wonderful beta to this work, seriously, you're a life saver. and thanks to shiropropaganda for helping beta the first chapter:)

Shiro knew moving to Oriande was a good thing.

It was a beautiful city, a fantastical mixing of old and new that still boggled Shiro’s mind despite how most cities were like that after the post-invasion technological boom. It had been fourteen years since aliens came pouring out of a hole in the sky, nearly half of Shiro’s lifetime ago, but seeing the effects still left him feeling like he’d stepped into one of his grandfather’s old sci-fi dime novels.

All around the city, aging brick met shining steel and glass, and everything— _everything_ —was covered in green. That was probably Shiro’s favorite part about the city: the trees and vines and gardens and parks. Nowhere did solarpunk city planning quite like Oriande.

Shiro thought he’d really enjoy living here. His new apartment was on the top floor of the tallest building in a quiet neighborhood, which wasn’t far from his new job; there was a public park, a few restaurants that did take out, and a convenience store all within walking distance; and hell, he even got free parking.

It was pretty much perfect for Shiro. Except...

“What do you mean the elevator is broken?”

Shiro put his free hand on his hip and tried not to sound as annoyed as he was feeling, resisting the urge to pace around his car.

“Yeah, the elevator broke last week and maintenance hasn’t fixed it, yet,” said Jim, his new apartment manager, on the other end of the line.

Shiro stopped himself from pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you know when it’ll be fixed? I’ve kinda got a lot of boxes here.”

“Nope.” Jim popped the ‘p’ at the end, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. He could practically feel his blood pressure rising.

“Is there anyone there that could maybe help me move?” Shiro tried, forcing his jaw to unclench.

_It’s fine, everything’s fine, it’s fine-_

“No. Sorry,” Jim said, tacking on the apology like it was only _just_ occurring to him that maybe there was something wrong here.

 _This is fine, it’s fine, it’s fine—_ “Do you know of any movers I could call last minute? Or someone in the building I could pay to help me?”

“No. You could knock on doors until you get lucky?” Jim suggested. He sounded hopeful, like this was the perfect thing to say to get Shiro off the phone.

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Right. Thanks.” Shiro pressed the end call icon, viciously wishing for the satisfaction that smacking a flip phone closed would have given him, but settling for stuffing his smartphone back into his pocket.

He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and then looked back at his overstuffed car. Why did he have so much stuff? There were boxes in the front seat and he couldn’t even see out the back window. It was a safety hazard that he had driven 300 miles because he refused to leave his ancient car behind for, what? Nostalgia?

And all that stuff, every last over-stuffed cardboard box, needed to go to his new apartment. On the seventh floor. And the elevator was broken. Great.

Shiro fingered the pendant on his necklace through his shirt and let himself fantasize, for a moment, transforming in the middle of the parking lot and just flying all of his shit to the roof. Wings, an indestructible prosthetic that wouldn’t leave him aching, super strength…

Shiro dropped his hand with a sigh. He could practically hear his grandfather laughing, telling Shiro some ‘old saying’ that he made up on the spot half the time to get Shiro to do what he wanted. “Patience yields focus,” “bravery is not the absence of fear, but the actions one takes in spite of it,” and “with great power comes great responsibility.” Though Shiro was fairly sure he stole that last one from a movie or something.

It was all actually pretty good advice. At least, everything the old man had taught him had stuck with him all these years. And grandpa’s number one rule of advice about Shiro’s powers?

“Heroes don’t use their powers for personal gain.”

Shiro shook his head. It would be the easy route, but there could be all kinds of unforeseen consequences. What if someone saw him moving boxes onto the roof of an apartment building? Wouldn’t they assume his winged alter-ego lived there? Even if they didn’t guess that it was Shiro himself, he wasn’t about to risk the lives of his new neighbors when some villain with a grudge came looking for him.

And anyways, it wasn’t a big deal, he could handle this on his own. He fought aliens and supervillains and the occasional giant lizard for a living, so he could carry some damn boxes up some damn stairs. And the more time he spent feeling sorry for himself, the less daylight he’d have to get it done.

So, with a nod to himself, he got to work.

* * *

Shiro might have overestimated his abilities.

He leaned against the side of his car, flesh hand on his knee as he tried to catch his breath. His right arm was already starting to ache, which meant that by tomorrow Shiro was seriously going to be regretting everything that led up to this point. Not that he wasn’t already, what with the burn in his legs from going up six flights of stairs with heavy boxes ten times.

Shiro groaned as he pushed himself away from the car and opened the door to grab more boxes. There were only two left after six trips up the stairs, so this would be his last run, but he… really didn’t want to do any more stairs. He needed to suck it up and get it done, though. It was his own fault, anyway, for owning so much shit.

Or, actually, it was his new apartment manager’s fault, for not warning Shiro ahead of time that the elevator was broken when he damn well knew that Shiro was moving into a place on the _seventh floor_. His lips twisted in a grimace. Though maybe that wasn’t fair—for all Shiro knew, the guy could be new to his job, or had been out sick when the elevator broke down and only just found out.

Shiro grunted as he lifted another box into his arms, carefully balancing it on the side of the car while he tried to pick up the other box. When the second box was precariously balanced on top of the first, he hefted both up and used his foot to kick the car door closed before making his way back to the side door he’d been using.

He tried to open the door without putting the boxes down, not really trusting his legs to bring him back up once he’d squatted down. He fumbled with the boxes, trying to free one of his hands to grip the doorknob with little success.

Resigning himself to more squats, Shiro stepped away from the door with a grunt, only to bump into something solid behind him. Shiro startled, his heart jumping into his throat and his arms twitching hard, causing the top box to slide off. A hand came around Shiro, catching the box before it could fall to the ground.

“Woah, there,” a low voice said behind him, the hand quickly followed by the man attached to it as he took the top box into his own arms.

Shiro’s heart somehow managed to speed up as he stared with wide eyes at the man in front of him. The first thing he noticed were the toned arms underneath a sweaty t-shirt that clung to the man’s chest and shoulders invitingly. Next was that the man was shorter than him by at least 4 inches, his head tipped back slightly to look at Shiro.

Shiro was quickly distracted, however, by the man’s face which was framed with soft looking black hair. The only descriptor that Shiro could come up with to describe his face was “pretty”, but there was an intensity around his dark blue eyes that seemed to press the breath directly out of Shiro’s chest. They seemed to speak of hidden depths, mysteries unsolved, and a sharpened focus that was wondrous to witness but deeply uncomfortable when directed at you.

Shiro’s eyes ghosted downwards, following the shape of his nose to his almost softly curving face that ended in an almost point at his chin. His lips were a little thin and a distracting shade of pink and… moving. His lips were moving, he was talking and Shiro wasn’t hearing a word.

Shiro blinked rapidly, his chest and face flooding with heat. “Uh, sorry?”

“What floor are you heading to?” The Very Pretty Man asked. “I’ll help you bring this stuff up.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to, I don’t want to inconvenience you,” Shiro said, feeling like he’d somehow forgotten how to speak in the span of a few seconds.

Very Pretty Man shrugged a shoulder. “I’m on the top floor anyway, so it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Really?” Shiro asked, wincing internally at how excited he sounded. “Uh, me too. I’m on the seventh floor, as well. I’m moving in.” He lifted the box he was holding as if to demonstrate this point.

 _Wow, could I sound any more like a moron?_ He thought with an internal wince.

Very Pretty Man cocked his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at Shiro as though reassessing him. “703?”

“Uh, yeah, how did you…?”

Very Pretty Man smiled a little and Shiro felt like a small part of him was dying. “I’m in 704 across the hall. I’d heard someone was gonna move into 703 soon.”

Shiro smiled. “Oh, wow, guess we’re neighbors then.”

“Guess so,” Very Pretty Man said, before moving past Shiro to the door, easily holding the heavy box with one arm while he opened the door. Shiro was… a little impressed. The guy didn’t _look_ particularly strong, but clearly there was more to that toned physique than met the eye.

He held the door and gestured with his head for Shiro to enter before him.

“Ah, thanks,” Shiro said, ducking his head and brushing past him into the stairwell.

He started up the stairs first, almost instantly regretting it because that meant he couldn’t go slowly like his burning legs were begging him to and he also couldn’t ogle Very Pretty Man’s ass. …Which was probably a good thing, because ogling your new neighbor was really creepy, right? Right.

By the time they reached the seventh floor, they were both a little out of breath and Shiro’s arms were about ready to give out on him. They came to a stop in front of Shiro’s door and Shiro tried to finagle the box he was holding so he could get to his keys and unlock the door.

“Here,” Very Pretty Man said, squatting a bit so Shiro could put his box on top.

Shiro handed the box off, and quickly unlocked and opened the door. He held the door open for Very Pretty Man, who walked over to where Shiro had left the rest of his boxes, squatting and setting the boxes carefully on the ground.

“Thank you,” Shiro said earnestly. “I really appreciate the help.”

“Do you have any more boxes to bring up?” Very Pretty Man stood, looking around the apartment at the other boxes and various things laying around.

“Oh, no, those were the last two.”

“You brought this all up by yourself?”

“Ah, yeah. I would have hired someone to help, but…” Shiro rubbed his right arm above his prosthetic. “I wasn’t exactly warned beforehand that the elevator wasn’t working.”

Very Pretty Man snorted. “Jim?”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah…”

“The management and maintenance here sucks, but the rent is good and so’s the neighborhood, which is why most people stay. If you ever need any maintenance, though, just come to me instead of calling the front office. I handle most of the building’s handiwork since the guys Jim hires are clueless.”

“Oh, wow, that’s so nice of you.”

Very Pretty Man shrugged and crossed his arms. “Someone had to do it.”

Shiro smiled at that, warmth spreading pleasantly through his chest. Very Pretty Man seemed like a genuinely kind guy and—wait. Shiro hadn’t even exchanged names with this guy yet, Jesus, he needed to get a grip.

“Ah, I just realized I never introduced myself. I’m Takashi Shirogane, but uh, most people call me Shiro.”

Shiro held out his right hand expectantly, and Very Pretty Man didn’t even hesitate to take his prosthetic in hand and give it a firm shake.

“Keith Kogane. It’s good to meet you, Shiro.”

A tingle ran down Shiro’s spine when Keith said his name, and he couldn’t help but to smile wider.

“Good to meet you, too, Keith.”

Keith’s lips twitched up into a hesitant smile, and Shiro held his hand for just a beat longer than he had to before finally letting go. Keith went to stick his hands into pockets, realized his running shorts didn’t have any, and then didn’t seem to quite know what to do with his hands, ending up just leaving them hanging by his sides.

It was utterly endearing, and Shiro came to the sudden realization that he was completely and royally screwed.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll get out of your hair now, you probably want to start unpacking or something,” Keith said, gesturing towards the front door.

“Oh, uh, actually,” Shiro said. “Do you know any good take-out places close by? I, uh, don’t think I’ll be doing any cooking tonight. Or ever, really, I’m… not very good at cooking.”

“Heh,” Keith chuckled. “And, yeah. There’s this great Chinese place close by, if that’s something you like.”

“Cool, cool, I love Chinese,” Shiro said. “How do I get there?”

“Uh, actually,” Keith said, pursing his lips and shrugging. “If you give me a minute to shower and change, I could show you? I wasn’t really planning on cooking tonight, either.”

“Yeah! That would be awesome!” Shiro was trying really hard to sound less excited at the prospect, and he was definitely failing. “We could even eat together, if you wanted?”

Smooth, Shirogane. Very smooth. He was definitely going to say no now.

Only, in front of him, Keith was smiling and nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

It took him a moment to actually make words come out of his mouth again. “Great! Great, uh, I guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah.”

With a wave behind his shoulder, Keith left, Shiro pushing the door closed behind him. He leaned heavily against the door afterwards, letting his head thunk against the wood.

“Oh, my god,” he whispered.

Okay. Okay. He needed to get a grip. Yes, his new neighbor was incredibly attractive and definitely 100% Shiro’s type. And yes, he seemed to think Shiro was interesting enough to voluntarily spend more time with him. Or maybe he was just _really_ nice.

Whatever the case, it didn’t matter, because Shiro was going to _get a grip_ and treat Keith like any normal person would treat a potential new friend. Because this wasn’t a date. And dating Keith would be a bad idea anyway, right?

Because what if things ended badly? They lived across from each other, and Shiro could easily see that becoming extremely uncomfortable very quickly, and the last thing Shiro wanted to do was move again. Also, Shiro was a superhero for a living and had a secret identity to protect. It wouldn’t only be a safety hazard for Shiro and his career, but if a villain found out Guardian was dating someone, then Keith would be in danger, too.

Dating wasn’t worth the risk.

Shiro just needed to get his emotions on the same page.

* * *

Treating Keith like any other new acquaintance turned out to be easier than he thought after reminding himself of how bad of an idea dating was. Seeing Keith fresh out of the shower, hair still a little damp, and smelling faintly of spices tested his resolve, but Shiro was able to push through.

After calling in their orders, Keith showed Shiro the way to the restaurant, pointing out various landmarks in the neighborhood as they went. It really was a beautiful place, and Shiro could feel the tense knot in his shoulders that he hadn’t even been aware of ease. The greenery surrounding them gave the whole area an atmosphere of calm and life, even in the quiet stillness of dusk, and Keith’s quiet voice only added to the serenity of it all.

The restaurant itself was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall place with mismatched chairs and antiques decorating the walls. A young man greeted them, and after they paid for their food, they made their way back to the apartment. After a brief discussion of whose apartment to eat in—during which Shiro got the distinct impression that Keith hadn’t cleaned in a while because he didn’t seem to want Shiro in his apartment—they settled on going to Shiro’s place.

Once they were settled on the floor and eating, Shiro suddenly realized just how comfortable and easy it was to be around Keith. He wasn’t usually so at ease with new people, not even in his civilian life. He was always wary of how people would react to him being transgender and gay, especially after he lost his arm and felt more vulnerable than ever. At least he passed all the time these days, helping his anxiety in everyday life.

And that wasn’t even getting into the whole superhero/secret identity thing. It was hard to build any sort of meaningful relationship when you had to lie to the person’s face about who you were and what you did for a living.

But for whatever reason, Shiro already felt comfortable around Keith, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. It wasn’t as though he already knew Shiro was a gay trans superhero.

There was just… something about him that put Shiro at ease.

He tried not to question it. One of those self-help books he’d read had advised him not to question good feelings and to just let them happen, and Shiro tried to take the advice seriously.

So, he let the conversation flow and the warm, bubbly, happy feelings in his chest fill him up without question.

“Ok, so. Serious question,” Keith eventually said, sounding mock serious. Shiro felt his stomach tighten with anxiety, anyway. “Who would win in a fight: the Millennium Falcon or the U.S.S. Enterprise?”

Shiro burst out laughing, partly from nerves and partly from how random the question was when they’d just been discussing the different ways cities had integrated alien tech into their building designs, and the amount the design choices made in Beijing influenced these.

“The Enterprise, obviously,” Shiro said when he’d stopped laughing. He dug through his container of Kung Pao Chicken, picking out the peanuts and putting them on a napkin so he didn’t have to eat them.

“What? No way, you’re so wrong,” Keith argued.

Shiro looked back up at Keith incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“Han could outfly anyone in the Falcon, and no one has been able to beat it, yet. The same can’t be said for the Enterprise.”

“Are you serious?” Shiro asked, putting his container down. “You can’t even compare the two! Beyond being technology from different galaxies, the Enterprise is a massive, military-grade ship with a full crew of at least 200 with all kinds of shielding and advanced weaponry. The Millennium Falcon, on the other hand, is a tiny, really old ship that can sustain maybe 30 people and has, like, two guns. It’s like asking if your local weed dealer and his 1970s van held together with duct tape could win against an entire air force base.”

“If he had enough weed, he probably could,” Keith argued, and Shiro would have thought he was being completely serious if the corner of his lips didn’t twitch up in an obvious smile.

Shiro pressed his lips together, desperate not to be the first to crack, but when Keith raised his eyebrow at him, Shiro couldn’t hold it back anymore. Shiro covered his face and groaned through his laughter, Keith chuckling beside him.

“You’re terrible,” Shiro said into his hands, glaring up at him through his fingers.

“Heh, you’re just mad cause you know I’m right,” Keith teased.

Shiro pointed a warning finger at him. “No.”

Keith’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as he smiled at Shiro, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

They ate in companionable silence after that, Keith eating the peanuts Shiro didn’t like and Shiro eating the zucchini that Keith had picked out of his food. After a while, though, Keith finally spoke up again, bringing up a subject that Shiro had been hoping to avoid all night.

“So, what made you move to Oriande?”

“Oh, uh, work transfer,” Shiro said, feeling his face heat up even though it wasn’t _technically_ a lie.

“Mm,” Keith hummed, and Shiro hoped he left it at that. He didn’t, of course. “What do you do?”

Shiro took a huge bite of rice right as Keith asked the question, giving himself a moment to come up with an answer.

“Accounting,” he lied when he’d finally swallowed.

If by ‘accounting’ he meant ‘holding criminals and villains accountable for their actions, usually with his fists,’ then yeah, sure, he was an ‘accountant.’

“How about you?” He asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from himself.

“Uh, fire,” Keith said. “I mean, firefighting. I’m a firefighter.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows at that, impressed. “Wow, that’s amazing!”

“I guess,” Keith said, glancing away and rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, really. You’re out there saving people’s lives, that’s kind of amazing, in my book.”

Keith shrugged. “Someone has to do it.”

Sensing that Keith was just as uncomfortable with the work conversation as Shiro had been, Shiro changed the subject.

“So, how’d you end up the apartment handyman?”

Keith seemed to relax as he told the story of two of the apartment’s oldest residents, Mrs. and Mrs. Cartinelli, their three Rottweilers, and their perpetually broken front door. Shiro wasn’t sure what made Keith so uncomfortable talking about his job, but watching the way his face lit up talking about helping the Cartinelli’s and the other residents made it clear to Shiro that he was in the right field.

Shiro just tried not to picture Keith in his fireman’s uniform. Because that wasn’t something a friend would do. Right? Right.

Eventually, Shiro checked his phone for the time and found that, somehow, four hours had passed and it was nearly 10pm.

“Oh, wow, it’s late,” he commented.

Keith frowned and checked his own phone, his eyebrows raising when he saw the time. “I didn’t realize I’d been here that long.”

Shiro tried not to let the warm feeling that comment caused to go to his head.

“Guess I’d better head home,” Keith said, sounding like he actually regretted it.

“Ah, yeah,” Shiro said. “I have my first day tomorrow, anyway, so I should probably be getting to bed.”

Keith moved to start cleaning up the takeout containers, but Shiro waved him away.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it.”

“You sure?” Keith asked.

“Yeah,” Shiro assured him as he got up off the floor, his joints cracking. God, he felt old.

“Okay…” Keith said, standing up himself. He had an almost blank expression when he looked back up at Shiro.

They walked to the door, Shiro opening it for Keith when they got there.

“Oh, hey, let me get your number,” Shiro said before Keith could step over the threshold, suddenly feeling brave. He pulled out his phone and handed it over to Keith.

Keith took it and input his number and name. He handed the phone back to Shiro, who fired off a quick “Hey:)” to Keith.

“And now you have my number,” Shiro said with a smile. “We should hang out again, sometime.”

The blank expression on his face melted away, replaced by a small, but warm smile.

“Yeah,” Keith said lowly. “I’d like that.”

“Great!” Shiro said, his cheeks starting to ache with how hard he was smiling. “We’ll make plans later, then.”

“Definitely,” Keith said, his smile growing just a little bit more.

“Cool. Goodnight, Keith.”

“Goodnight, Shiro,” Keith said, then turned and walked the several feet to his own door. He gave a little wave to Shiro before closing his door, making Shiro smile even wider.

Yeah, he was definitely going to like living in Oriande.

* * *

After a night spent sleeping on a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, Shiro made his way onto the roof of his apartment building bright and early; and the view that greeted him was breathtaking.

The neighborhood laid before him, quiet and serene in the minutes before the sun breached the horizon. The soft glow of pre-dawn painted the sky in hazy shades of pink and orange, while shadows continued to dominate the streets, broken up by the glow of the occasional street lamp.

Shiro walked to the center of the roof and stood there for a moment with closed eyes, listening to the quiet of the world, of the wind dancing between buildings and the birds in the nearby park singing their morning calls. It was peaceful up here, reminding Shiro of how it felt when he flew for the simple joy of feeling the wind under his wings, the world laid out below him, endless and wondrous.

He wasn’t up here for pleasure, though. He was here to get ready for work.

He’d specifically chosen the tallest building in the neighborhood for a reason. His transformation, while nearly instantaneous to the outside viewer, still gave off a burst of bright light and definitely tended to catch people's attention. Since he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him leaving his apartment as Guardian, and he didn’t like the lack of security that came with transforming anywhere public or where people could recognize him as Shiro, having a private and easily accessible place to transform was essential.

Not wanting to waste any more time—and definitely not wanting to be late to his morning meeting—Shiro pulled his amulet necklace out of his shirt and let it rest against his chest. The amulet itself was small, about the size of an unshelled almond, flat and smooth to the touch, and vaguely oval shaped. At first glance, it resembled a simple, dark purple stone, but when one looked closely, they could see a swirling, pulsing, _living_ light hidden deep inside, like the soul of a star captured and secreted away.

Shiro closed his eyes once more and spread his arms out in preparation for the transformation.

There was no incantation or mantra he had to chant, no secret words that triggered the amulet to awaken. It was a connection, a partnership, a bond. It was Shiro and the amulet meeting in the middle, in a dimension outside their own—without borders or limits—and becoming one.

It was a feeling that bubbled up inside of Shiro until his body could no longer contain it, and in a burst of light, he became Guardian.

His dark wash jeans, white t-shirt, and sneakers seemed to fade from existence as he was bathed in sudden light and he began to transform.

Liquid silver flowed over his prosthetic right arm, settling there like a second, near-indestructible skin. Huge wings that could carry the weight of a car and would drag on the floor when he walked sprouted from his back, the feathers a beautiful, glossy black.

His armor wrapped around him, dark purple and black metal rippling across his body and forming the majority of his armor, with silver following after to create his shoulder armor, vambraces, leg guards, and the chest design—a stylized eagle with wings spread high and wide, their tips nearly reaching his shoulders.

Thick black leather gloves and boots wrapped around his hands and feet, hiding all of his skin save his face. Even that, however, was partially obstructed by the silver headpiece that formed. Sharp, curved lines came together into three points above his head, and one point swooping down to the center of his forehead. The sides came down to the top of his jaw, framing his face in silver.

His transformation didn’t end with armor and wings, though. The white part of his hair darkened to match the black of the rest, all of it lengthening to just past his shoulders, held back only by his head piece. The scar across his nose also disappeared, leaving his face completely bare.

In less than a second and a flash of bright light, his transformation was complete.

Shiro became Guardian.

He opened his eyes and couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he spread his wings as wide as he could, arms still outstretched. He hadn’t gotten to transform in several days, what with packing and moving to a brand new city, and he reveled in the weight of his armor and wings as they settled on him.

He couldn’t wait to get back into the field, to feel that rush of adrenaline, the flex of his enhanced muscles, the sharp feeling of lightning dancing across his skin as he directed it towards his target.

There was nothing Shiro loved more than being a hero.

 _Well_ , Shiro thought with a grin, wings curving above him while his muscles tensed and flexed under his skin. _Except maybe flying_.

Shiro shot into the sky, propelled by the enhanced strength in his muscles and the might of his wings. He beat his powerful wings, climbing higher and higher until he was far above the city, to the point where the hidden sun’s rays kissed his skin.

He glided through the air, letting the wind do most of the work while he surveyed Oriande from above.

If he’d found the city beautiful from the ground, that view had nothing on what Oriande was like from on high. Mile after mile of gleaming metal flowing seamlessly with flourishing greenery, giving the whole city a sense of timelessness, as though all of it had grown from the ground in that beautiful, chaotic way that nature was wont to. It was a city that breathed, that _lived_.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to enjoy the view, instead having to turn his attention to flying to Blade Headquarters. Shiro had an early morning meeting with the Director of Blade, Kolivan, before he would be introduced to his new team.

Blade was an organization with an interesting history. Once a secret government spy organization specializing in anti-terrorism and threats of “unusual nature,” it was now in charge of all hero work within the United States. Monitoring any and all situations that required superheroes rather than police, Blade organized and deployed heroes around the country.

Shiro was registered with Blade as a superhero, as was required by law, and had worked with them for nearly a decade now. All heroes did, these days, save for the occasional vigilante. He didn’t always like the calls they made, and he definitely didn’t like how many secrets the organization kept, but he did trust the agents of Blade and his fellow heroes. And, really, that was the most he could expect from a government organization.

Blade Headquarters quickly came into view, and soon Shiro was circling the building, looking for the best place to land. He spotted someone on the roof waving around those lights that were usually used at airports to direct planes, and he descended to meet them.

He landed gracefully in a rush of air, tucking his wings behind him as he stood up straight to greet the Blade agent who had signaled him. He was a tall man with a lean build, closely cropped white hair, and sharply defined facial features.

“Guardian,” he said in a deep, slightly accented voice, stepping forward and offering his hand to Shiro. “Welcome to Blade Headquarters. I’m Special Agent Ulaz.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agent,” Shiro said, taking the offered hand and flashing the agent a smile.

Ulaz didn’t so much as blink, giving Shiro’s hand a firm, but brief, shake before releasing it and turning towards the door, gesturing for Shiro to follow.

Shiro huffed in amusement as he followed after Ulaz, folding his wings even closer to his body so he could fit through the doorway. People often reacted more when first meeting him, whether it was because they were a fan or because it was just so weird to see a person with giant wings.

But that was Blade special agents for you. Completely unruffled by pretty much anything.

Ulaz swiftly moved down a small flight of stairs and through a hallway until they reached the elevator, which he called using a key card. The elevator took them down only two floors before letting them out into what Shiro assumed was the director’s floor.

There were several agents already on the floor going about their business, all of whom stopped and watched as Shiro and Ulaz exited the elevator. Shiro nodded as they passed one agent, a young man with shaggy brown hair, a jagged scar across his cheek, and bright eyes that looked at Shiro like he was something extraordinary.

A Guardian fan, probably. Shiro wasn’t surprised, he _was_ one of the most well-known heroes around. Public opinion of him was consistently positive and his track record spoke for itself. Shiro prided himself on being very good at his job, putting his heart and soul into it, and, well. People tended to take notice.

It could be awkward sometimes, but he’d learned over the years how to respond to different kinds of fans, and he thought he’d gotten pretty good at it, too. Or, well, at least he wasn’t _bad_ at it.

They passed another pair of agents, who whispered to each other excitedly after Ulaz and Shiro had seemingly passed out of earshot. _Seemingly_. Shiro didn’t really hide that he had enhanced senses, but he didn’t show them off, either. Which meant that most people weren’t aware he had them. It was usually very useful, especially on the job, but it could also lead to embarrassing accidental eavesdropping.

“He’s way hotter in person, oh my _god_ ,” said one agent.

“And _big_ ,” the other whispered, the both of them bursting into quiet giggles.

Shiro forced himself not to react, not wanting to embarrass either agent. It wasn’t hard, really. He was used to ignoring people’s comments about him. Especially the more, ah, _amorous_ ones. Comparatively, calling him “hot” and “big” were fairly mild.

Ulaz finally came to a stop outside an office that was hidden behind a wall of frosted glass. There were no markers or signs that indicated this office as the director’s, but it was rather obvious by its location and conspicuous appearance.

Ulaz gave a perfunctory knock, waiting to open the door until he heard a call from inside to enter. He then ushered Shiro inside and closed the door behind him without so much as a goodbye.

The office Shiro stepped into was modern, with sleek steel and white furniture and zero decoration, save for the tiny succulent that sat on the large, empty desk. The room really didn’t need any decoration, however, since the view of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows along the entirety of the back wall was clearly meant to suffice.

At the desk in the center of the room sat the Director in his usual practical, all-black ensemble. This wasn’t Shiro’s first time meeting the Director, but it was the first time they’d get to have a conversation outside of combat or political negotiations.

“Guardian,” the older man greeted, his ever-present frown in place.

He stood and walked around his desk, his long white braid swishing against his leather coat as he made his way to Shiro, extending his hand.

“It’s good to see you, Director,” Shiro said as they shook.

“How are you settling in?” Kolivan asked, moving back to stand behind his desk again.

“Pretty well,” Shiro said. _Unhelpful apartment management aside._ “Oriande is even more beautiful in person.”

Kolivan nodded and then tapped something on his desk that made a holo-screen pop up between them. Apparently, the small talk was over.

“You’ll be meeting your new team shortly, but I wanted to give you an overview of each of them before you go in. As the team leader, you’re going to need to be prepared.”

He tapped a file icon on the screen, making it expand to reveal six new folders, each labeled with a different hero’s call sign. Kolivan pressed the first one, the file expanding to reveal a picture and description of a smiling woman with long white hair and bright pink facial markings.

“Princess Allura you, of course, already know. Alien princess with super strength, flight, and the ability to shoot energy from her hands and lasers from her eyes. She has fourteen years of experience, like you.”

A video popped up on the screen of Princess Allura in action during the London Incident. She was wearing her usual costume, a white full-body suit with light pink and blue geometric lines decorating the entire thing. She also wore a golden circlet with a blue triangle pointing down in the center of her forehead, and her hair was up in a braided bun. In the video, she punched a robot into a nearby building before decapitating another with her laser vision.

Shiro couldn’t help the smile the video brought to his face. Princess Allura really was something, and Shiro was very glad he’d have a familiar face on the team.

Kolivan flicked the image of Allura away to reveal a man with short white hair, a sharp smile, and dangerous eyes.

“Lotor Galra, aka Sincline. Owner of Galra Industries, genius, billionaire philanthropist with a flying suit of armor. Nine years of experience.”

Shiro had never worked with Lotor, but he was definitely familiar with the man. Besides his hero work and incredible suit of armor, Lotor was one of only two human heroes without a secret identity, the other being the king of a small African nation.

The video that opened for Lotor showed him in his black, blue, and orange armor. Beams of light shot from his palms as he fought someone in another, cruder suit of armor. The video switched over to one of Lotor out of his armor and into a well-tailored suit, speaking at some press conference.

Even watching without audio, Shiro found himself charmed by the man. He clearly knew how to play a crowd.

Kolivan flicked to the next file, bringing up an image of a young man with short brown hair, a black face mask that covered his eyes, and cocky grin.

“Slingshot. Extreme physical elasticity. Two years of experience.”

The screen changed to show a video of a man in a dark blue full-body suit with black boots and gloves, limbs stretching at least twenty feet to punch a masked gunman in the jaw. He then grabbed hold of the edge of a building and slung himself at another masked man.

The next image Kolivan flipped to was of a young woman with short, wildly curly hair with dark green goggles covering her eyes.

“Gadget. Can control anything that runs on electricity.  Two years of experience.”

The video that popped up for Gadget showed her wielding two whips that crackled with electricity as she took on a couple of bank robbers. She wore an all-black ensemble with a dark green leather jacket and fingerless gloves. Her costume could have passed as regular street clothes, if not for her goggles and whips.

Next was a larger man with a square jaw, hesitant smile, and black and yellow cowl that covered the top half of his face.

“Bulwark. Creates force fields and can turn invisible. One year experience.”

The video of Bulwark was short, but showed him throwing two glowing disks into the air to hit a piece of concrete that was about to fall onto a civilian. He was wearing a yellow full-body suit with thick black strips along the sides, black gloves, and black boots.

Kolivan flipped to the sixth and final image and Shiro felt himself straighten up in attention. The man in the image had long-ish black hair that framed his attractive yet serious face. He wore a muted red eye mask, his dark eyes visible and seeming to stare down the camera.

Shiro definitely recognized this hero.

“Heat Wave. Creates and controls fire with his left side and ice with his right. Nine years of experience.”

The video for Heat Wave showed the hero facing off with another powered human, a massive wall of ice behind them. He was wearing a black full-body suit with black boots and black fingerless gloves. On top, he wore a red, hooded leather-like jacket that faded to black at the waist and the bottom of the sleeves.

As Shiro watched, flames shot forward from Heat Wave’s left side, his opponent dodging only for his leg to be encased in ice a moment later, stopping him in his tracks.

The video was too short for Shiro to glean much information from, but he was intrigued, to say the least. He was extremely powerful. Talented. A little mysterious…

Shiro couldn’t help but feel a little excited about meeting him. He always did like a challenge, and he was definitely interested in testing how his own abilities worked with Heat Wave’s.

Kolivan waved his hand over the screen and all six photos and their corresponding names lined up on the screen.

“These will be the members of your new team, hand-picked by me specifically for this project. Blade’s objective is to create a response team for large scale incidents, like what happened at the Battle of Beijing or the London Incident. You aren’t the first hero team, and you won’t be the last, but you _will_ be the best.

“That’s why I made you team leader. Well-respected, powerful, experienced, and with a proven ability to lead other heroes, you were a clear pick.”

Shiro crossed his arms and studied Kolivan’s face. “It’s because I’m the only non-retired hero who fought in the Battle of Beijing and who’s not an alien, isn’t it.”

Kolivan raised an eyebrow that Shiro took to mean ‘yes, but we’re not supposed to say that out loud, so don’t bring it up again.’ Maybe. Shiro thought he had pretty expressive eyebrows.

Shiro raised his chin and met Kolivan’s gaze with a grin. “When do we start?”

Kolivan’s face twitched in what Shiro thought might be his version of a smile, if frowning slightly less for half a second counted as smiling.

“Right now.”

* * *

Kolivan led Shiro through the building, back onto the elevator, and down about ten floors below the one they’d just left. This floor was much busier than the last, but Kolivan didn’t miss a single step as he walked down the hallway to a conference room.

An agent stood at the door and opened it for the director when they reached it. Inside the conference room was a large, oblong table with seven chairs and one stool. The five occupants in the room all turned to look at them as they entered, but Shiro’s gaze immediately settled on the most familiar face.

“Princess,” he greeted warmly.

Allura, in full costume, smiled brightly at him as she moved across the room to greet him.

“Guardian! It’s so good to see you,” she said, taking Shiro’s hand in both of hers.

“And you, Princess,” Shiro said with a grin to match hers.

“Oh, come on. You know you can call me Allura.”

“I know, Princess,” Shiro said, both of their eyes twinkling in amusement.

This wasn’t the first time they’d had this exchange, which was largely an inside joke between them at this point.

Alteans aged much slower than humans, so when he met Allura at the Battle of Beijing she looked exactly like how she did now—like a woman in her mid-twenties. Shiro, on the other hand, had been fifteen years old and very flustered over meeting a real life alien princess. He hadn’t been able to call her anything other than “princess” and “ma’am” at the time, though he’d been able to drop the “ma’am” within a few years.

Allura eventually released his hand and moved to the side so Shiro could greet the others in the conference room. The next person to approach him was Lotor, who, unlike the rest of the heroes assembled, wasn’t wearing his hero suit, but a dark blue business suit, looking every inch the billionaire genius that Shiro had always heard he was.

“Guardian,” Lotor said with a charming smile. “It’s an honor to meet you. I look forward to working by your side.”

“Ah, thank you,” Shiro said, taking his hand. “I look forward to working with you, as well. Especially getting to see that suit of yours in person. It’s incredible.”

Lotor’s smile took on a softer edge and he looked genuinely pleased at the compliment.

“Thank you.”

Slingshot swaggered forward next, Gadget and Bulwark standing behind him. He stuck his hand out to Shiro with a grin.

“Name’s Slingshot.”

Shiro shook his hand, Slingshot’s grip just a little too tight.

“Guardian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, he already knows who you are,” Gadget said from behind Slingshot, a mischievous grin on her face. “He’s just trying to look cool in front of his idol.”

“Gadget!” Slingshot squawked, turning to glare at her.

Instead of responding to him, Gadget stepped forward and took Shiro’s still outstretched hand.

“I’m Gadget, and the big nervous guy is Bulwark,” she said, nodding her head at the large man behind her.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Guardian, sir,” Bulwark said, sounding nervous just like Gadget said he was.

“Uh, just Guardian is fine. Please,” Shiro said, holding his hand out for Bulwark to shake. “We’re all on the same team, after all.”

“Yeah, but you’re our leader, right?” Bulwark asked, shaking his hand quickly.

Shiro shrugged. “Technically, but this is a team. I want us all to work together, as equals.”

“If you’re all done with the small talk, I’d like to get started,” Kolivan interrupted from the head of the table, where he’d somehow managed to set up a projector and pull up a powerpoint presentation without anyone noticing.

Everyone moved to take their seats, Shiro going to the single stool in the room on Kolivan’s right. Allura took the seat to Shiro’s right, with Lotor next to her, then Bulwark, Gadget, and Slingshot.

The seat directly in front of Shiro was left empty, suddenly reminding him that there was one team member he still had yet to meet. As if on cue, the door opened to reveal Heat Wave, his shrouded in shadow under his hood.

He stopped in the doorway for a moment, scanning the suddenly silent room, before he made quick strides to the only empty seat, pulling his hood off as he went. Slingshot moved his chair closer to Gadget, shooting Heat Wave a dark glare, whose entire body seemed to tense in preparation of some kind of attack.

Shiro narrowed his eyes at the exchange. That might be a problem. He’d deal with it later, though. For now, he sent a bright smile Heat Wave’s way and greeted his sixth teammate.

“Heat Wave,” Shiro said, drawing the man’s sharp gaze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Shiro reached across the table to offer Heat Wave his hand, his smile holding firm. Heat Wave stared for a moment, looking caught off guard, before he finally took Shiro’s hand in his own.

“Guardian,” he said in a deep voice. “It’s an honor. Your reputation precedes you.”

“Not as much as yours does,” Slingshot muttered darkly.

It was likely only meant to be heard by Heat Wave and Gadget, but Shiro picked up on it as well, and knew that Princess Allura likely did, too.

Heat Wave tensed in response and quickly withdrew his hand from Shiro’s grasp. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, turning his attention to Kolivan and otherwise ignoring Slingshot’s comment.

Shiro frowned, but turned to Kolivan as well, who started the meeting with a summary of what their team would be and then explained how, while they were a team, they would still maintain their individual hero work outside of larger incidents.

“You’ll be having weekly group training sessions, to get used to working together before you all have to go out into the field together. These are mandatory. I also want you all to work one-on-one with each other, just in case there’s ever a situation where only part of the team can respond to a threat,” Kolivan explained.

“What?” Slingshot interrupted, leaning forward. “You’re saying I’m gonna have to work one-on-one with _him?_ ”

Slingshot jerked his chin at Heat Wave, who tensed.

“That is what I said, yes,” Kolivan replied, sounding slightly annoyed at the interruption.

“No way,” Slingshot protested, leaning back in his chair and scrunching his nose in distaste. “It’s bad enough he’s on the team, why do we have to spend alone time with him?”

“What is your problem?” Heat Wave asked through gritted teeth.

“ _You’re_ my problem,” Slingshot fired back, jumping out of his seat.

Heat Wave didn’t rise from his seat, but he had a death grip on his armrests and his right hand looked like it was covered in a thin layer of frost.

Shiro took quick stock of the rest of the room while Heat Wave and Slingshot glared at each other. Bulwark had grabbed hold of Gadget’s chair and pulled her closer to him, like he was trying to keep her out of the line of fire in case things escalated. Lotor had uncrossed his legs and had his hand in his pocket for some reason. Preparing to summon his armor? Shiro had heard he could do that.

Princess Allura was doing much the same as Shiro was, examining the room and tensing in preparation of intervening if a fight broke out between the two.

When Shiro glanced to his right, he saw Kolivan standing off to the side, his eyebrow raised at Shiro as if to say ‘this is your problem. Deal with it.’

“Slingshot,” Shiro said, keeping his voice soft, but still commanding. “Why don’t you want to work with Heat Wave?”

“Oh, come on! We all know his track record. He’s dangerous to everyone, not just the bad guys. I don’t even know why he’s on this team at all!”

Shiro took a moment to think about how to respond, wanting to choose his words carefully. After a moment, he looked Slingshot in the eye and tried to impart how serious he was.

“Heat Wave was handpicked for this team by Director Kolivan himself, just like every other member. I trust the director’s judgment, and I trust that Heat Wave will be a valuable asset to this team, same as the rest of us. But no one has to be here that doesn’t want to be. So, if you absolutely can’t learn to work with Heat Wave, then you’re welcome to leave the team and continue with your solo work.”

For a moment, Slingshot looked stricken and Shiro wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Then, Slingshot schooled his expression and quietly sat back down in his chair.

“I want to stay,” he said quietly, not meeting anyone’s eye.

Shiro nodded. “Good, I’m glad. We’ll all be training together, anyways, so we’ll have plenty of practice in getting used to each other’s abilities and fighting styles. This is a team, so we’re going to have to learn how to work together.

Right, Heat Wave?”

Shiro directed his last comment at Heat Wave, who startled slightly at being addressed.

“…Right.”

Shiro nodded and looked around the rest of the room, gauging how everyone felt. The tension that had been building in the room started to ease, Bulwark releasing Gadget’s chair, Lotor re-crossing his legs, Princess Allura giving him a brief smile.

Shiro nodded to the room at large before turning back to Kolivan.

“Oh, I can continue now?” Kolivan asked, distinctly sarcastic.

Kolivan wrapped up his presentation, then dismissed them all and walked out the door without a backward glance.

Shiro and Princess Allura shared a look, and then Shiro turned towards Heat Wave with the intention of asking him to speak privately. But Heat Wave’s chair was empty, and when Shiro looked around, he spotted him walking quickly from the room, his hood pulled up.

Shiro frowned after him, but decided that he should at least talk to Slingshot privately. But, much like Heat Wave, Slingshot was out of his seat and out the door before anyone could say anything, turning the opposite direction from the one Heat Wave had gone.

Gadget and Bulwark shared a look before following after Slingshot, leaving Shiro alone with Princess Allura and Lotor.

“Well,” Lotor said, standing and re-buttoning his suit jacket. “That could have gone better.”

“Do either of you know why Slingshot dislikes Heat Wave so much?” Shiro asked, standing along with Allura as the three of them made their way out of the conference room.

Allura shook her head. “I hear talk sometimes, but people are always saying things about heroes or giving them overly harsh criticism.”

“We’ve all had criticism, Heat Wave just gets more than usual. I think people can’t decide between being in awe of his power and being afraid of it,” Lotor added, shaking his head. “Then again, Slingshot _is_ a fairly new hero… it could be a bit of professional jealousy, as well? Heat Wave would be an easy target, both loved and hated by many.”

Shiro hmmed and frowned at the ground. Was that really the whole story—hearsay and jealousy? It felt more complicated than that, almost personal.

“Well,” Lotor said when they got to a crossroads in the corridor. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved. Could I tempt you both into having brunch with me? There’s a darling little French café only a few blocks from here.”

“Oh, I love French!” Allura enthused, smiling brightly up at Lotor.

“Wonderful,” Lotor said, returning her smile. He held her gaze for a moment before directing it back to Shiro.

“And you, Guardian?”

“Oh, no, thank you,” Shiro declined with a wave of his hand. “I think I’m going to go for a fly around the city, see the sights, stretch my wings a little.”

 _Try to clear my head_ , he thought privately.

“Oh, that’s right, you relocated here, didn’t you? How are you liking Oriande?” Allura asked.

“Beautiful, from what I’ve seen.” Suddenly, Keith popped into his head and Shiro couldn’t help but smile a little. “And the people have been really… great, so far.”

“They are, aren’t they,” Allura replied.

“If you ever need any recommendations or help around the city, don’t hesitate to contact me,” Lotor said, holding his hand out to Shiro.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“Of course,” Lotor said. “We’re teammates now, after all.”

“Right. Well, you two have fun.”

“Thanks, Guardian,” Allura said. “Enjoy your flight!”

Shiro nodded and turned down the hallway, heading towards the elevator that would take him back to the roof. Behind him, he heard Lotor and Allura begin chatting about their favorite French cuisine, their voices quickly fading into the background.

Shiro quickly made his way up the elevator and onto the roof, where he didn’t waste any time in launching himself into the open air.

While he’d been inside, a scattering of clouds had covered part of the sky above Blade HQ. Shiro flew up and up, higher and higher until he breached the clouds above the city. He did a barrel roll when he finally leveled out, shaking the water that had gathered on his wings free.

He soared through the air, the wind holding him up as the clouds thinned beneath him until he could see the city clearly below him. He angled his body towards the south and allowed himself to simply glide, to enjoy the freedom of flying.

After a few hours, he started getting hungry and so he dived closer to the city to look for a street vendor he could buy something from. He eventually spotted a food truck parked outside a small park and made his way towards it, landing in an empty area in the park.

He made his way towards the food truck, the people he passed doing double takes as he went. Whispers followed him as he approached the food truck’s window. The truck was brightly colored with a stylized drawing of a young black woman with rainbow-colored dreads eating the sun from the palms of her hands. The name and catchphrase of the truck were painted below her—Dishing Destiny: The best last meal you’ll ever have!

Shiro chuckled at that and glanced at the painted chalk menu before approaching the order window. A small sign on the window said ‘We’re open! Just tap on the glass!’, and so Shiro did just that.

The woman who opened the window had long purple and pink dreads and a number of piercings.

“Welcome to Dishing Destiny, what can I—“

She stopped mid-sentence when she finally got a good look at Shiro, her jaw dropping and eyes widening.

“Oh my god,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh my god!”

“Hi,” Shiro said with a kind smile. People got like this sometimes.

“Oh my god!” The woman repeated for a third time. “Guardian!”

“That’s me,” Shiro said with a laugh.

She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “What- What are you doing here?”

“Uh, well,” Shiro started, then realized that he didn’t actually know if he was supposed to announce yet that Guardian was officially moving to Oriande. “I was flying by and saw your truck, realized I was hungry and so decided to get lunch?”

“God! Yes, right, food! You want food, of course you do, you came to a food truck,” she rambled. “What, uh, what can I get for you?”

Shiro looked over the menu briefly before looking back at the young woman.

“Do you have any recommendations…” He looked down at her shirt for a name tag. “Kiera?”

“Oh, uh,” Kiera giggled, a pleased smile on her face at Shiro calling her by her name. “Well, our fried mac n’ cheese burger is our best seller, but I dunno if that’s something you’d…like? Are superheroes allowed to eat fried stuff? Or burgers?”

Shiro laughed. “Well, I can’t speak for other superheroes, but I definitely eat fried stuff. And burgers. Probably more often than I should, actually.”

Kiera laughed. “Same. Um, we’ll get that started for you right away.”

“Thanks,” Shiro said.

Kiera disappeared further into the truck, leaving Shiro to look around as he waited for her to return. Before Kiera could come back, someone tapped Shiro on his shoulder.

He turned to find a group of four teenagers, a boy with short braids at the front of the group.

“Uh, Guardian?” The boy asked nervously, his friends pressed close behind him.

“Hi,” Shiro smiled at them.

“Can we get a selfie?” The boy blurted with a nervous smile, holding up the phone in his hand.

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro said, and the teens immediately gathered around him, giggling excitedly.

Shiro leaned down so his face was level with the kids’ and grinned at the camera, throwing a peace sign up for lack of anything else to do with his hands.

The kids gathered around the phone to look at the photo before looking back at Shiro with matching wide grins.

“Thanks!” The boy enthused, his friends echoing the sentiment before they all rushed off, gushing in excitement.

Shiro smiled after them, but turned back to the window when he heard Kiera come back.

“Alright,” she said, sliding his food across to him. “That’ll be $8.25.”

Shiro reached into the little pouch on his hip, which manifested his wallet when he needed it, and gave her a ten. When she handed him his change back, he put it in the tip jar next to the window.

“Thank you!” Kiera said. “And, um… can I get a selfie, too?”

Shiro smiled and nodded, Kiera darting out of the truck to take the picture with him. After taking a few photos, she quickly turned around and hugged him around the middle, there and gone before he could react.

“Thanks, Guardian!” She said, smiling up at him. “And, um, come again!”

“Thanks,” Shiro said, smiling at her. “Have a good day, Kiera.”

He walked a little away to a clear bit of sidewalk and took off into the air, hearing Kiera’s giggling laughter fade the higher he rose. He flew over to a building a few streets away, landing on the roof and taking a seat on the ledge, his feet dangling over the edge.

He took the takeout container out of the bag and opened it to reveal a large, delicious looking hamburger with the promised fried mac n’ cheese. He took his first bite and was immediately thankful that he was alone on a rooftop because the groan he let out was far too obscene for company.

It was the best hamburger Shiro had ever had.

As he enjoyed his food and looked over the city, he pondered the incident between Slingshot and Heat Wave. Lotor and Allura had thought it was just negative talk about Heat Wave or Slingshot being jealous of a more well-known hero, but Shiro wasn’t so sure. It felt more personal, though he didn’t have any specific reason for feeling that way.

He sighed as he finished off the last of his burger. Hopefully, the two could sort this out on their own, or at least put their differences aside and act professionally. In the meantime, though, he should probably try talking to each of them to figure out what was going on.

Satisfied that he knew how to handle this first hiccup in his new team, Shiro crumpled up his trash and jumped off the building, gliding down to street level and dropping his trash into a trashcan before flying back up into the sky.

Shiro flew around the city for a few more hours, enjoying the peace and quiet so far up in the sky with only the clouds and occasional bird to keep him company. At one point, he closed his eyes and let the amulet take control, guiding him through the air. He could feel the amulet’s power coursing through him, lightning dancing across his skin as he swooped and rolled as the amulet directed him.

The amulet wasn’t a living thing, per say. It didn’t have a name, it didn’t speak to Shiro with words. But it was _real_ and something… _something_ in it was alive, could reach out and touch deep inside Shiro. It could feel, the way Shiro could feel: joy and fear, anger and contentment, warmth and pride.

It was something separate from Shiro, but like this, connected like this, they were one and the same.

When the sun began to lower in the sky, Shiro turned towards the direction of his apartment building and made his way home. He circled high above, checking to make sure no one was watching, before he landed on the roof and transformed in a flash of light.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he made his way towards the door, checking any messages he missed during his extended flight. He stopped with his hand on the door when he saw the message notification on his phone.

Keith. He had a message from Keith. Keith had messaged him.

Shiro shook his head and swiped to open the message, reading it quickly with mounting excitement building in his stomach.

KEITH: _hey. r u free this wknd? i could show u around the city if u wanted._

Shiro grinned down at his phone for a minute, smothering a laugh at the ridiculous way Keith apparently texted, his chest feeling tight and full of air at the same time.

He quickly typed out a reply.

SHIRO: _Hey, Keith! Thanks for getting in touch! I’m definitely free and would love to be shown around. What did you have in mind?_

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and opened the door to the building, grin never leaving his face as he made his way to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference images for Hero Costumes: [Shiro, Keith, and Allura](https://sleepyhunk.tumblr.com/post/177702293526/the-whole-truth-just-a-little-to-the-left); [Lance, Hunk, Pidge, and Lotor](https://sleepyhunk.tumblr.com/post/177702486821/the-whole-truth-just-a-little-to-the-left)


	2. Chapter 2

That night Keith called Shiro to iron out their plans for the next day, the two of them agreeing to meet in the hallway and go to breakfast together first thing in the morning. Shiro couldn’t stop grinning the entire time they talked, excitement bubbling in his stomach.

When he hung up, however, he had the sudden realization that he hadn’t unpacked _anything_ for his apartment. Cursing, Shiro rushed to unpack, starting with his boxes of clothing and only stopping to eat his leftover Chinese food over the sink because he still didn’t know which box had his dishes.

At one in the morning, Shiro finally decided to call it quits and passed out on top of his pile of blankets and pillows. He woke up to rays of sunlight hitting his face, feeling groggy and a little sore because he was definitely getting too old to be sleeping on the floor regularly. Then he suddenly remembered he was supposed to meet with Keith that morning and jolted upright.

He scrambled for his phone, sighing in relief when he saw that it was only 6:30am and he wasn’t meeting Keith until 7:30. That gave him enough time to shower and get dressed, though he’d have to skip shaving if he didn’t want to be late or end up with cuts all over his face.

After showering, he quickly dried off with a towel, scrubbing his hair one-handed. When he looked up, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and couldn’t help but stop and stare. He dropped the towel on the counter and started tracing the scars under his chest, a ball of emotion bubbling up and lodging itself in his throat. Old feelings of joy and relief and _freedom._

It had been a little over eight years since he got top surgery.

Shiro glanced down to where his right arm once was, then quickly back up to the scar on his face and his white patch of hair, the emotions swirling in his stomach turning sour.

Seven years since…

He shook his head. He was acting so maudlin, but couldn’t quite help it, knowing that he was going to come out to Keith today. He’d realized last night while unpacking that he was getting attached very quickly. He needed to know if Keith could accept all of him now, before it was too late for his heart.

Or, well. Most of him. He was definitely going to be staying in the superhero closet for a long while. Possibly forever.

Shiro groaned and pushed open the bathroom door, stomping over to his bedroom. God, he was being dramatic this morning. He definitely needed to get some coffee in his system ASAP.

After putting on a fresh pair of briefs, he rifled through the box that had most of his pants, looking for his favorite pair of jeans. They were a little older and worn soft, black with some tears on the knees, which was fortunately back in style. They were his _favorite_ jeans, though, because of how well they accentuated his ass.

When he finally found them, he used the wall to support himself as he pulled them on one-handed. Then, he rifled through the box that had his shirts, trying to decide as he went what he wanted to wear. He decided on just wearing a plain white shirt, but then went to his closet and grabbed his black bomber jacket with pink and yellow peonies.

He set his shirt and jacket to the side, quickly attaching his high-tech prosthetic created by Galra Industry. Then he got dressed and slipped his amulet necklace back around his neck, letting it hang over his shirt openly. After he was completely dressed, he went back to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his hair.

He was just contemplating whether he _should_ bite the bullet and shave his stubble, even if it made him late, when a knock at his door startled him.

“Shit,” he whispered, rushing to answer the door.

He stopped before he unlocked it, though, cursing and running back to the bathroom to put on deodorant. He jogged back to the door, slipping on his shoes as he went, and then pat his pockets to make sure he had his keys and phone before opening the door.

“Hey,” Shiro said, smiling and only slightly out of breath.

Keith turned back from where he’d been looking down the hall and smiled at Shiro.

“Hey. You ready to go?”

“Yeah!” Shiro said, giving Keith a brief once over and taking in his denim jacket with a NASA patch on the left arm and a handful of enamel pins on the front, vintage Voltron ’84 shirt, ripped black jeans, and black combat boots.

Shiro stepped out the door, coming close enough to Keith for just a moment to get a whiff of his cologne—rich and spicy—before Keith moved out of his way.  Shiro closed and locked the door, then gestured for Keith to lead the way.

“So, where are we heading?” Shiro asked as he followed Keith down the stairs.

“Junie’s Diner, just a few blocks from here.”

“Any particular reason why?”

Keith gave him a questioning look over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, you mentioned taking me to some of your personal favorite places around town, so I thought maybe Junie’s Diner was one of them?”

“Well, they do have good food,” Keith said, opening the door for Shiro when they got to the bottom of the stairs. “But you’re right, there is a reason Junie’s is my favorite.”

Keith paused as he directed them down the street, his hands slipping into his jacket pockets.

“I was, uh. At kind of a stressful point in my life when I first stumbled in there.”

Keith’s voice had gotten gruffer, and when Shiro glanced at him from under his lashes, he noticed how tense he’d gotten. Keith cleared his throat and rolled his shoulder back before continuing.

“It wasn’t really anything about the place. It was your average, neighborhood diner. Lots of locals; friendly, kinda bored wait staff; someone always getting their coffee cup refilled. But…”

Shiro looked at Keith again and was surprised by the smile he saw there, small and almost wistful.

“I stumbled in there at, like, eleven at night. I don’t even remember ordering anything, but next thing I knew, there was a waffle and side of bacon in front of me. The last time I’d had waffles was… the last time my father made them for me. For a second, it was like I was a little kid again… And then suddenly I was holding back tears while eating breakfast in the middle of the night, and just… life didn’t seem so impossible anymore. I dunno. It was just really surreal, but it… It _mattered_ to me for some reason, you know?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, voice barely above a whisper.

They came to a stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, and Keith looked up, a furrow creasing his brow.

“I don’t know why I just told you all that.”

Shiro bit his lip, studying Keith’s profile before glancing across the street at the pedestrian’s light.

“Do you know what taiyaki is?” Shiro asked suddenly.

Keith turned to look at him, confusion clear on his face. “No?”

“It’s a Japanese desert, kinda like a waffle filled with sweet red bean paste. Only, it’s shaped to look like a fish. My, uh.” Shiro stopped to clear his throat, which was suddenly a little tight.

“My grandfather used to always have a plate of warm taiyaki on the table when I’d come to visit. Even when I wasn’t little anymore and the novelty of fish-shaped food had faded, we always had taiyaki when I came over. We’d sit and eat them and tell each other about all the things we’d done since the last time we saw each other...”

Shiro looked up, up into the cloudless sky and wished, in that moment, that he was defying gravity instead of stuck on earth with the weight of the world and all his emotions on his shoulders.

After a few seconds, though, the feeling passed and Shiro sighed as he looked back at the ground.

“I haven’t eaten taiyaki in a long time,” he said quietly.

The light changed then, and Shiro jolted forward on auto-pilot. Keith moved to follow him a split second later, and the two crossed the street in silence. There wasn’t much to say to all that, after all.

After walking a block side by side without saying a word, Shiro finally broke their silence.

“So,” he said, forcing cheer into his voice in the hopes of moving past the melancholy conversation. “What else do you have planned for me today?”

They both started to relax with the subject change, Keith explaining all he had planned for the day, including the places Shiro had personally asked about. The most pressing was a furniture store that could deliver to their apartment building, but Shiro had also requested they visit one of the museums that lined White Lion Park near the center of Oriande.

They were fortunately able to get all the way to a table at Junie’s Diner without any more awkward emotional moments involving dead relatives, focusing instead on debating what kind of furniture Shiro should get.

Their conversation naturally flowed onto how Shiro was planning to decorate as they ordered and eventually received their food. Shiro had a few things, pictures and such, but he hadn’t brought much with him on the move as far as decoration went.

“I feel like I should have _something_ , you know?” Shiro said as he cut into his omelet. “I mean, I just turned twenty-nine last month, I should have an adult-looking apartment, shouldn’t I?”

Keith stopped from where he was about to take a bite of his hash browns and looked at Shiro in surprise.

“Wait, you’re twenty-nine? Really?”

“Ah, yeah? Why, do I look older?” Shiro asked with a nervous laugh, fingers running through his white tuft of hair self-consciously.

“No, no, I just thought you were closer to my age,” Keith said.

“Oh? How old are you?” Shiro asked, finally taking a bite of his omelet.

“Twenty-four,” Keith replied.

Shiro laughed. “Thanks for thinking I’m twenty-four, then.”

Keith chuckled and took a sip of his coffee.

“Sure thing, grandpa,” Keith said after he swallowed.

“Hey,” Shiro said, pointing his fork at Keith and scowling. “That’s no way to speak to your elders, young man.”

Keith burst out laughing, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. Shiro smiled and chuckled under his breath, feeling a burst of pride and joy at making Keith laugh.

“God, that was terrible!” Keith groaned when his laughter had tapered off.

“Hey, don’t blame me, you started it,” Shiro teased.

Keith looked at him doubtfully. “Wow, I was wrong. Are you sure you’re twenty-nine and not, like, five?”

“Actually, I’m seven, thank you very much.” Shiro said, feeling giddy and completely ridiculous. God, he never acted like this. It was like Keith brought out his inner child. It was odd, but… refreshing.

He leaned forward and whispered, “Leap year baby,” before winking at Keith.

“Seriously?” Keith asked.

Shiro grinned and waggled his eyebrows, which seemed to set Keith off again, throwing his head back and laughing.

As Keith tried to calm down, Shiro’s eye was caught by the pins attached to Keith’s jacket.

“By the way, what are those pins?” Shiro asked, gesturing at them with his fork.

“Huh?” Keith asked, still chuckling a bit. “Oh, ah, two are from the community center off Minor Street, and the little alien was given to me as a joke from my mom.”

“Community center?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll point it out to you when we leave, it’s just a block from here. They host all kinds of events, there’s a community garden, different clubs and organizations, sports teams, low-cost child care, and so on. It’s a great place.”

“Sounds it. So, what are the community center ones for?”

“Uh, well,” Keith said, pulling on his jacket so he could see the front better. He pointed towards the one that looked like a fancy pen with a banner looping around it with words Shiro couldn’t make out.

“This one is for the literature club. I can’t go to many meetings, but I happened to go to the one when they were handing these out to all members, so.”

“What does it say?” Shiro asked, filing away the information that Keith was in a _literature club_.

“Uh…” Keith paused, his face twisting in embarrassment. “It says ‘Knowledge or Death.’”

Shiro raised both of his eyebrows. “That’s… extreme.”

“It’s the title of a book by Dr. B. Marmora about the power of the written word, the power knowledge gives, and the role this power has in the literal life and death of people and populations. It’s… an incredible work.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of Shiro’s mouth as he watched Keith’s face light up while talking about the book.

“Wow, you sure you’re a firefighter and not a professor or something?” Shiro teased.

Keith chuckled nervously. “Ah, sorry about that… You probably don’t want to listen to me geek out over literature.”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant,” Shiro was quick to correct, shaking his head. “You just sound like you’re really passionate about it. And I’d love to listen to you ‘geek out’ over literature.”

“Did you really just use air quotes?” Keith asked.

Shiro rolled his eyes, which made Keith huff a laugh. His head was bent forward, his hands twisting together, when he glanced back up at Shiro almost shyly.

“You actually want to listen to me talk about literature?”

Shiro smiled softly. “Yeah, of course I do. It’s nice to listen to people talk about things they’re passionate about.”

Keith’s own smile matched Shiro’s, soft and pleased. “I’m gonna talk about poetry, too, you know. Fair warning.”

Shiro laughed. “I look forward to it.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, their eyes not leaving the other’s face, but then a man coughing loudly a few tables away and startled them both out of the moment. Keith shoved a piece of toast in his mouth, while Shiro took several large gulps of coffee.

“So, uh,” Shiro said, hoping to move past whatever that had been. “What about the last one? ‘OQA’? Is that what it says?”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith replied after he’d swallowed his bite of toast. “It stands for the ‘Oriande Queer Alliance.’ One of the organization’s branch offices is in the community center, and they also do a lot of different meetings there. I, uh, volunteer sometimes, when I can.”

Shiro’s heart had started racing the moment the word ‘queer’ left Keith’s mouth, excitement and trepidation mixing strangely in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh, you’re, uh,” Shiro said, gesturing towards Keith, not wanting to verbally assume Keith’s orientation or gender.

Keith straightened in his seat, his relaxed expression sliding behind a stiff, pinched look.

“I’m bisexual,” he said, tone careful. “That’s not gonna be a problem, is it?”

Shiro was already shaking his head and waving his hands in front of him emphatically.

“No, no, no, definitely not. No,” Shiro said before nervously chuckling under his breath. “I’m not biphobic. I’m gay. And trans. Trans and gay. Yup.”

Shiro tried not to wince at how awkward he sounded, his heart racing in his chest.

“Oh, cool,” Keith said, his entire posture relaxing again. “Sorry I was… well. I’ve just had a few bad experiences with neighbors before…”

Shiro frowned. “Anyone I should worry about?”

“Oh, no, not here,” Keith said. “Where I used to live. This neighborhood is definitely not like that, it’s basically Oriande’s unofficial queer neighborhood.”

“Really?” Shiro asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Wow, how did I manage to accidentally move to _the_ queer neighborhood?”

“I imagine faeries were involved,” Keith replied, smirking.

It took Shiro a moment before he got it, and then he was throwing his head back and laughing.

“Oh my god,” Shiro gasped.

Keith chuckled and gave Shiro a pleased smile, a slight rosy tone spread across his cheeks.

“Well, no matter how I managed it, I’m glad I moved here.”

 _I’m glad I met you_ , he didn’t say.

“Yeah,” Keith replied, voice gone quiet. “Me, too.”

They sat there smiling at each other for a long moment, then their waitress came over to check on them and top off their coffees, shocking them both out of their impromptu staring contest.

The rest of breakfast was spent in amicable quiet, the two of them concentrating on finishing their food before it went cold. On Shiro’s part, he was also preoccupied thinking over their conversation.

Keith was bisexual. He also hadn’t made any kind of fuss over Shiro being trans. A corner of Shiro’s mind was yelling in excitement, while the rest of his brain was pushing that part back and reminding him of all the reasons he should definitely not develop romantic feelings for Keith.

It was just… nice. To consider. Maybe fantasize about a little.

Because Keith was in a literature club. He liked _poetry_. And he volunteered for the local queer organization! _And he was a firefighter!_

Not to mention how he made Shiro laugh; how relaxed he made Shiro feel; how passionate he was; how obviously kind he was; how it felt like Shiro had known him for most of his life rather than only a few days.

He was basically seventeen-year-old Shiro’s dream guy. Hell, he was basically twenty-nine-year-old Shiro’s dream guy.

As long as he _kept_ it to daydreams only, it was okay, right?

They both finished eating before long, Shiro getting the check for both of them, handing their waitress his credit card before Keith could protest. Keith narrowed his eyes at Shiro, but let it slide with a “lunch is on me.”

Keith then walked Shiro to the community center, showing him the bulletin board near the front that had all the listings of the different groups, organizations, and activities going on at the center. The board next to it was covered in flyers, used by various businesses and members of the community to post wanted ads, offer services, or advertise.

He then took Shiro to his favorite neighborhood stores: the international market, a thrift store, two clothing shops, a bookstore, a coffee shop, and a number of restaurants. The more of the neighborhood Shiro saw, the more he fell in love with the place.

Eventually, they hopped on a train to the center of the city. They first stopped at a mattress store where they proceeded to lie down on about twenty different mattresses. The clerk initially mistook them as a couple, which caused Shiro to blush and stutter more than he would have liked as he corrected her.

He tried not to think about how it kinda _did_ feel like they were shopping for a mattress together every time Keith would lie down beside him and ask him if this mattress was “Goldilocks.” When Shiro finally settled on one, he paid for it and scheduled to have it delivered the next day, along with a frame.

They stopped for lunch at a small Greek restaurant—Keith grabbing the check before Shiro could even reach for his wallet—before they finally made their way towards White Lion Park, which was surrounded on all sides by Oriande’s largest museums.

“So, which museum did you want to check out?” Keith asked when they stopped at the entrance to the park. “There’s modern art, natural history, science and technology, and aliens.”

“Aliens?” Shiro asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Oh, the Museum of Discovery,” Keith explained. “It also has, like, the history of space travel and research, but most people just call it the alien museum ‘cause they have a bunch of exhibits detailing what we know about life beyond Earth.”

“Hm, that sounds interesting,” Shiro mused. For all he’d fought against (and beside) aliens, he didn’t actually know all that much about, well. Aliens.

“To the Museum of Discovery, then,” Keith said, directing them towards the large building across the street from the park entrance.

“So, have you ever met an alien?” Keith asked, a funny smile on his face as they made their way to the front doors.

“Oh, uh, I’ve… seen Princess Allura,” Shiro stuttered out. Which wasn’t _technically_ a lie.

Keith chuckled, that same smile still on his face, and Shiro started to feel a little bit like he was being left out of a joke.

“What about you?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m pretty sure I’ve met one before,” Keith answered vaguely.

“Pretty sure? Wait… are you a conspiracy theorist? Like, one of those people that think aliens are already controlling most of the world governments or something?” Shiro asked, holding the door open for Keith when they reached the front.

There _were_ a few aliens in politics that Shiro knew of, as well as those simply living in the general population. The majority were intergalactic refugees of various species, and all were registered with Blade. Though that wasn’t usually what conspiracy theorists meant when they talked about aliens in government.

“Heh, no. I just think that there’s a… _solid_ possibility that I’ve met someone not from Earth.”

“O-kaaay,” Shiro said as they stopped at the back of the line to go through the bag check and metal detector.

“I’ve also met Princess Allura,” Keith added.

“Oh, cool,” Shiro said, trying to gauge how impressed by that he should be, as someone who totally, definitely has not been working on and off with her for the past fourteen years.

“Yeah, she’s… very impressive,” Keith said.

“Definitely. Oh, speaking of,” Shiro said, pointing at the large sign just past the metal detector that had an enlarged picture of Princess Allura from the London Incident, posed dramatically on top of a destroyed robot, and the words ‘The Age of Heroes’ with an arrow pointing to the left.

“The Age of Heroes… we should check that out first, I love heroes,” Shiro suggested and tried not to sound too amused. He hoped this would be as funny as he thought it would.

Keith made a choked noise and Shiro looked over at him in concern. Keith turned his head and coughed into his hand.

“Wrong pipe,” he muttered, clearing his throat.

Shiro nodded in understanding, turning back towards the front.

Once they made it through the bag check, Shiro led the way towards the exhibit. The entrance had a large banner hanging above the archway and another poster on a stand. The stand also had several packets giving additional information about the exhibit, as well as advertising a virtual audio tour through the museum’s app.

“Do you have earphones?” Shiro asked Keith, who’d come to a stop next to him.

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“There’s an audio tour,” Shiro explained, already downloading the app onto his phone. He held out the phone to Keith with a smile.

“We can both listen from my phone, if you don’t mind sharing headphones with me,” Shiro said.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure,” Keith stuttered out, pulling out a tangled pair of headphones from his jacket pocket.

After untangling the headphones with minimal cursing, Keith handed him the end to be plugged into Shiro’s phone and then handed the right earbud to Shiro. He stepped closer, not quite pressing against Shiro’s right side as he slid the left earbud into his own ear.

Shiro cleared his throat and fidgeted with his phone for a moment, feeling his face heat up. He hadn’t entirely thought this through, but he couldn’t tell Keith to forget about the virtual tour after making such a fuss about it. Even if it meant spending the entire time with Keith practically pressed up against him. Sharing earphones.

He cleared his throat a second time and fumbled the earbud into his right ear, hitting play on the virtual tour so he could hopefully stop thinking about how he could feel Keith’s body heat without even touching.

“Welcome to the virtual audio tour of the Age of Heroes exhibit hosted by the Museum of Discovery,” a pleasant feminine voice said. “Please proceed to the left to begin your tour.”

Shiro and Keith shuffled forward a bit awkwardly, trying (and failing) to not pull the earbud out of the other’s ear.

“Here, uh,” Keith said after they’d both had their earbuds pulled out. He tentatively wrapped his arm around Shiro’s waist. “And you can, uh, put your arm around my shoulders. It’ll, um, be easier to walk now.”

“Oh,” Shiro whispered softly, raising his arm and gently placing it around Keith’s shoulders. He prayed that Keith couldn’t feel his racing pulse or how warm and kinda sweaty he suddenly was.

They continued forward together, much more easily than before, and reached the first part of the exhibit without any more earphone malfunctions. Mounted on the wall was a glass display case with a number of photographs that Shiro recognized as being from the Battle of Beijing.

Swallowing thickly and beginning to wonder if this was actually a good idea, he pressed the continue button on the app.

“Widely regarded as the starting point of the Age of Heroes, the Battle of Beijing occurred from October 9 - October 11, 2005,” the virtual tour guide explained. “The battle began when a wormhole opened in the sky over Beijing and an invading army of aliens, now known to be a species called the Kalmari, poured into the city from above.”

Keith shuffled to the right, taking Shiro with him as they examined the photographs and continued to listen to the audio description.

“Princess Allura, the alien royal from the planet Altea, was the first superhero on the scene. Princess Allura had only been on Earth for two weeks, the drama surrounding her arrival still in full swing, when the invasion started and she immediately stepped in to help.

As the battle continued, she was joined by Guardian, ZigZag, Dynamo, Mr. Hyde, Shockwave, and Antimatter. The battle waged for eight hours before the hero Antimatter was able to close the wormhole into space, unfortunately sacrificing his own life in the process.

The incident continued for three days after while the last of the aliens were found and either captured or killed. A total of 1,143,628 human lives were lost during the battle. However, the discovery that the Kalmari were a parasitic race, going from planet to planet and destroying all life, shows us all that it could have been much, much worse. The number of lives lost was horrific, but we are all thankful to the heroes who saved the world from possible extinction.”

Shiro involuntarily held Keith a little closer as the guide detailed more about the battle, jaw clenching as he scanned over the photos of destruction and the impromptu medical camps that were set up during and after the battle.

God, that battle had been hell. Literal hell raining down from above, with demon-like monsters coming to kill humanity. It had been dumb luck that Shiro was in Japan when it happened instead of on the other side of the world where he usually was.

Fifteen and visiting distant relatives, and suddenly he was fighting in a goddamn battle straight from a sci-fi movie, only so much worse because it was _real_. He’d only had the amulet for a year, he could barely summon lightning let alone properly direct it, but then he was fighting for not only his life, but the lives of millions, _billions_ , of people.

It wasn’t as though he regretted fighting in Beijing. He’d saved people, and he could never regret that. At fifteen, though, he’d had such a romanticized idea of what it meant to be a hero or to fight in a battle that he was sorely unprepared for reality.

The violence, the death. The sights and sounds and smells. The lives he took… Because he could never forget that the Kalmari were living, breathing beings, even if they were aliens that wanted to wipe out the human race. That fact, unfortunately, didn’t make things easier.

Shiro felt a hand rub firmly in a circle on his lower back and he startled out of the internal fog that he’d fallen into. The guide was still talking into their earphones, but Keith was looking up at him with a concerned look on his face.

“Sorry,” Shiro rasped out. “I, uh, knew people. In the battle.”

Not a lie, he reminded himself. It wasn’t, even though he knew how Keith would take it.

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, and sounded like he truly meant it.

Shiro wished that didn’t make him feel so guilty. He gave Keith a brief smile and shake of his head, and they went back to listening to their audio guide, who had just finished her explanation.

“Please move on to the next display to continue the tour,” she said cheerily.

“You want to keep going?” Keith asked, still looking concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good, really,” Shiro said, already turning them and moving on to the next display. “Just… got a little lost in my head, is all. I’m fine.”

Keith didn’t look like he entirely believed Shiro, but he let it go and they continued onto the rest of the tour without any more incidents. It was actually very interesting, at least to Shiro. The exhibit went on to showcase heroes (and possible heroes) that predated the Battle of Beijing, the London Incident, and the evolution of laws and regulations regarding heroes, vigilantes, aliens, and humans with special abilities across the globe.

The entire time, Keith remained tucked under Shiro’s arm, his arm securely around Shiro’s waist. It was… good. So good. Shiro didn’t really want to admit just how good, not even to himself. It had been a long, _long_ time since he’d just… held someone. Or been held.

It was just really nice, having someone else casually, almost affectionately touch him. He hadn’t really noticed how much he’d been craving that till suddenly he was spending nearly an hour with a man he’d only known for a day, arms wrapped around each other as they walked through a museum.

Shiro wondered if he made Keith feel as warm and comfortable as Keith made him. He wondered if Keith realized people would assume they were a couple, walking with their arms around each other. He wondered if Keith would be pleased by that, the way Shiro felt satisfaction curl in his stomach at the thought. He wondered if it was weird to hope so.

He quickly decided he should probably stop wondering about these sorts of things if he wanted to be Keith’s friend and not torture himself with ‘what ifs.’

Near the end of the exhibit, there was a display about the heroes currently operating in Oriande.

“Oriande’s roster of heroes has quickly grown in the last nine years,” their tour guide explained. “When genius billionaire Lotor Galra famously revealed that he was, in fact, the armored hero Sincline, Oriande—the city that his mother helped found and that the young Galra heir has called home for fourteen years now—immediately began to see an uptick in both hero and villain activity.

“Oriande, once heralded as ‘The City of Tomorrow,’ soon gained a new title: The City of Heroes. This title was further solidified when in 2015 it was announced that Blade would be moving its headquarters to the city.

“Today, Oriande is home to several high profiles heroes, including Sincline, Princess Allura, Impulse, and Heat Wave.”

She continued to speak, but Shiro was quickly distracted from her words by the large screen in the display case. A video was playing showing Heat Wave in action, fighting three powered individuals at once, and a group of teens, two boys and a girl, were standing close to it, watching the video with interest.

“Which battle is this again?” The shorter boy asked.

“Heat Wave vs. Triple Threat,” the girl replied. “Probably one of his most iconic fights to date, not to mention with some of the best video quality.”

“Pft, no way,” the second boy said. “Heat Wave vs. the Butcher was way cooler.”

The girl rounded on the boy, and the two proceeded to have an argument over which of Heat Wave’s recorded fights was the best, the shorter boy looking increasingly exasperated.

“Okay, okay, let’s just agree to disagree,” the shorter boy finally interrupted. “Can we _please_ go to Comic Mania now?”

“Yeah, fine,” the second boy said, rolling his eyes. The girl punched him gently on the arm with a grin, then all three of them moved away from the screen.

 “Oh!” The girl exclaimed as they walked away. “Did you guys hear about Guardian being spotted in Oriande? It’s all over the internet.”

“No way!”

“Are you for real?!”

Shiro and Keith shuffled over to take their place in front of the screen, and Shiro had to admit that the girl had a point. Watching Heat Wave fight really was something spectacular. His movements were quick and fluid, and with the fire and ice dancing around him at his command, it definitely made for quite the show.

“So,” Shiro said when he realized that their virtual tour guide was no longer speaking. “What do you think of Heat Wave?”

Keith’s shoulders stiffened under Shiro’s arm.

“He’s… I dunno,” Keith said slowly. “Seems kinda dangerous. And his history is pretty spotty. A lot of people don’t seem to like him, or are afraid of him…”

“Hm, yeah, that’s true,” Shiro replied, removing his arm from around Keith and taking the earbud out. “But obviously not everyone feels that way. Those kids seemed like big fans.”

“That doesn’t make him any less dangerous,” Keith argued.

“Yeah, but all heroes are dangerous,” Shiro retorted. “I mean, look at Guardian or Princess Allura. They’re both super strong, super powerful… ‘Dangerous’ is basically in the job description.”

“Yeah, but Heat Wave isn’t Guardian or Princess Allura. He’s… different.”

“How?” Shiro asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s a hero, isn’t he? He’s registered with Blade, which means he’s gone through the same background checks and routine psych evals as every other hero. Why is he being singled out as the ‘dangerous’ one?”

Keith looked at Shiro with both eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Wow, are you… a fan? Or something?” Keith asked, sounding a little choked.

Shiro uncrossed his arms and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “No, no really. I just… I keep hearing these really polarized views about him, and I just don’t get it? I mean, he’s hardly the only hero to ever screw up or make a bad call or hurt someone. Look at Guardian, he’s done all those things, but he’s not nearly as disliked as Heat Wave.”

Keith snorted. “Yeah, cause he’s _Guardian_.”

“So? That doesn’t make him above reproach, that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be held responsible for his actions, that doesn’t mean he’s always right.”

“Yeah, but… Guardian is just _different_ , he’s not like Heat Wave,” Keith argued.

“He isn’t, though! He’s just another hero, a _person_ , he’s not some infallible, god-like being!” Shiro said.

He realized a second later that he was only a few decibels away from shouting and had started gesticulating rather forcefully. He also noticed how Keith had crossed his arms tightly over his chest and hunched his shoulders, obviously uncomfortable.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shiro said, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to get so… yeah. It’s just been on my mind for a while, and… bothering me, but I shouldn’t have gotten so… impassioned. Sorry.”

“No, it’s, uh, it’s okay,” Keith said, though his shoulders had relaxed noticeably. “You’re, uh, not much of a Guardian fan, huh?”

Shiro sighed. “It’s not like I… I don’t _dis_ like him, I just… don’t like how so many people seem to put him on a pedestal, like he’s something more than what he is.”

“And what is he?” Keith asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Just a guy trying his best to help other people,” Shiro said. “Or, well, that’s, uh, my impression, at least.”

Keith looked at him for a moment, a searching look in his eyes, and Shiro really hoped his face wasn’t doing anything incriminating. He really shouldn’t have brought this topic up.

“You’re… weird,” Keith finally said.

“Oh,” Shiro said, feeling a little self-conscious. “Um, I...”

“Not in a bad way,” Keith corrected himself. “Just… different.”

“Oh.”

“Not a lot of people think that way, especially about someone like Guardian.”

“Yeah, well,” Shiro said, shrugging. “I do, I guess.”

“Hm.”

“Uh, what do you, uh,” Shiro stuttered, running a hand through his hair. “What do you think of Guardian?”

He wanted to know, but he also really didn’t want to know, but he also _really wanted to know,_ but-

“Like you said,” Keith said, turning and making his way out of the exhibit. “He’s a guy doing his best to help people. And you can’t really argue with his track record, can you?”

“I… guess not,” Shiro replied, unplugging Keith’s earphones and handing them back to him.

“So… you wanna check out the other exhibits?” Keith asked, wrapping the earphones around his hand and sticking them back in his pocket.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Shiro said, smiling down at Keith. “Lead the way.”

They spent another hour walking around the museum before deciding to go for a walk around White Lion Park. It was a beautifully designed park, with a lot of trees, a nicely sized field, and even a small pond. The walkways were lined with dogwoods, and Shiro made a mental note to come back in a month or so when they’d be in bloom. It would be breathtaking…

Shiro made a second mental note to ask Keith to join him when he did.

Walking around the park, conversation flowed easily between them and Shiro was struck again at just how strange it was that he’d only known Keith for two days now. It felt like he’d known him for years, like there was some sort of innate connection between them that he couldn’t quite explain. But they just… _got_ each other.

They eventually decided they should start to head back and made their way towards one of the park’s entrances. Near the edge of the park, they came across an ice cream truck.

“Hey, you want some ice cream?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll buy,” Shiro replied, grinning mischievously down at Keith, who rolled his eyes.

“Only if I get to buy next time,” Keith said.

Shiro’s heart skipped a beat at ‘next time,’ but he tried not to show it.

“You’re on.”

Luckily there wasn’t a line, so they got to just walk up and place their orders.

“I’ll have a vanilla cone,” Keith told the guy at the cash register. “Two scoops, please.”

“And you?”

“Uh,” Shiro paused, looking over the options. “I’ll have… one scoop of raspberry and one of pistachio. On a cone, please.”

The man rang them up and Shiro paid, putting his change into the tip jar. They only had to wait a brief moment before they were handed their cones.

“I can’t believe you’re actually gonna eat that. Voluntarily,” Keith said, looking dubiously at Shiro’s cone as they walked away.

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked, taking a lick of the pistachio ice cream on top.

“That,” Keith said, pointing at Shiro’s ice cream. “Is a disgrace to ice cream. A combination of flavors that should never exist.”

“I’m sorry?” Shiro said, feigning outrage. “At least it’s not boring, plain vanilla. Mine’s at least got _flavor_.”

“Vanilla is a _classic_ ,” Keith replied vehemently. “Raspberry ice cream on its own I can cope with. Pistachio ice cream on its own is on thin fuckin’ ice as is. But raspberry and pistachio _together?_ Wrong. Just plain wrong.”

Shiro stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at Keith, his mouth hanging open as a fought off a smile. Eventually, he lost the battle and laughed in disbelief.

“It’s delicious,” Shiro said, trying to hold back his laughter. “Just try it. Try it, and I promise it won’t be as bad as you’re thinking.”

“No way, I’m not putting that in my mouth,” Keith said, turning his head away, but not before Shiro caught his grin.

“Come oooon,” Shiro wheedled, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. “Just one little bite?”

Keith glanced over and groaned. “God, okay, just never make that face again.”

Shiro simply grinned and held his ice cream out. Keith stepped forward and bent his head down, sticking his tongue out and licking up the entirety of the ice cream, making sure to get both raspberry and pistachio flavors.

Shiro’s throat constricted and he wasn’t quite sure what his face was doing in that moment, but he was extremely glad that Keith wasn’t looking at him just then. He really, _really_ needed to start thinking these things through.

Keith smacked his lips and then pursed them, his eyes squinting into the middle distance.

“It’s not… _so_ bad,” Keith reasoned.

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “You liked it.”

“Like is such a strong word,” Keith said, turning away. He was smiling, though, and Shiro could tell he was lying.

“You,” Shiro said, falling into step beside him. “Are full of shit. You totally liked it.”

“I didn’t _dis_ like it.”

“Just admit it. You liked it.”

“If I tell you I liked it, will you be insufferable about it?” Keith asked.

“Probably,” Shiro answered truthfully.

He’d definitely tease him about it. A lot. He somehow got the feeling that Keith would do the same, though, if their positions were switched.

“Then I’m not saying I liked it,” Keith replied, taking a big bite of his own ice cream.

Shiro grinned, bumping his shoulder against Keith’s.

“You totally liked it.”

“Whatever,” Keith said, but he was smiling. “Just eat your damn ice cream, Shiro.”

Shiro ate his damn ice cream, and he did it with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

The next week was one of the best Shiro’d had in a long time. After the fantastic day out with Keith on Saturday, he spent all of Sunday setting up his apartment: buying more furniture, finishing unpacking, and even getting a painting to hang in his living room.

Then on Monday, Blade officially confirmed the rumors that Guardian would be working in Oriande and also announced their plans for a specialized team of heroes led by Guardian. The news was met with overwhelming approval, and Blade’s PR department was suddenly inundated with requests for interviews with Guardian and his new teammates. All were refused, until further notice.

The rest of the week was spent alternating between going on patrols of the city, putting finishing touches on his apartment, and spending time with Keith.

He was surprised at how well their schedules seemed to match, but wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Notwithstanding his possible romantic feelings, he could honestly say that Keith had become his best friend. Which sounded both incredibly weird and probably kind of sad, since they’d only known each other for a week, but it was still the truth.

Then on Friday morning, Shiro woke up, patrolled the city for a few hours, and then flew to Blade HQ, where his good week came to a fiery end.

Shiro had scheduled the first group training session for a week after their initial meeting in the hopes that it would give everyone time to settle and for certain heads to cool off. He contacted Lotor several times during the week to go over how the training program he’d designed for Blade would work for their team.

Lotor’s program utilized limited self-learning droids to simulate enemy combatants. The training facility itself, located behind Blade HQ, was spacious and durable, created with Allura, Lotor, and Heat Wave in mind. It also included a number of obstacles and other environmental additions to provide cover or other use during training, similar to how one might use their environment to their advantage in the real world.

On Friday morning, everyone met in the training facility bright and early.

“Okay, so, let’s get started,” Shiro said, clapping his hands together and moving to stand in front of the group. “Today, we’re going to be doing a fairly straight forward training module of detain or immobilize, imitating a large scale villain attack with human enemies that require non-lethal force.”

“Lotor, if you want to explain how your training program works?” Shiro asked, gesturing to Lotor, who was already in his Sincline armor.

“Of course,” Lotor said, stepping forward to stand beside Shiro.

As Lotor explained his program, Shiro scanned the group in front of him. Princess Allura stood closest to Lotor, listening attentively. Gadget stood next to her, also looking very interested and like she had a number of questions she was holding back. Shiro remembered that her file mentioned her proficiency in hacking any and all types of technology, and made a mental note to remind her not to use her ability on Lotor’s training program. Cheating at the training program wouldn’t do her any good, especially since most real-life situations won’t have robots for her to hack and override.

Bulwark was standing a bit behind Gadget, looking a little nervous, though Shiro wasn’t sure that that wasn’t just Bulwark’s general state of being. Slingshot was next to Bulwark, arms crossed and alternating between glaring at Lotor, who was largely just talking directly to Allura at this point, and Heat Wave, who was standing on Allura’s opposite side, furthest from Slingshot.

Shiro frowned, watching how Slingshot’s heated gaze flicked from Lotor to Heat Wave, occasionally landing on Allura and softening a great deal. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He eventually turned his attention to Heat Wave, and was surprised to find his eyes already on him. Shiro glanced back to Slingshot, who was glaring at Heat Wave again, then back to Heat Wave, who crossed his arms and huffed. He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but was resisting the urge.

Shiro was thankful for that because he probably would have laughed if he did and that would have been bad for so very many reasons.

He finally tuned back into Lotor’s lengthy explanation as it came to a close.

“Any questions?” Lotor asked. Despite addressing the group as a whole, he only had eyes for Allura.

“Yeah, a few actually,” Gadget said, raising a finger. “First off—”

“Ah, Gadget,” Shiro interrupted her. “Are these questions relevant to this training session?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then they can wait until after we’re done training, right?”

Gadget’s shoulders slumped and she pushed her lips out in an obvious pout. “I guess.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said, briefly placing a hand on her shoulder before facing the rest of the team. “Alright, gang, let’s get started.”

* * *

The training session was, to put it mildly, an unmitigated disaster. Uncoordinated, messy, and far more violent than a ‘detain or immobilize’ training module had any right to be.

An ugly bruise was blooming across Shiro’s jaw, one of his fingers was broken, and he had drying blood on his face from a bloodied nose. And somehow, Shiro was the only one with anything more significant than a mild bruise. Lucky him. At least he had accelerated healing, so he wouldn’t have to endure the pain much longer.

The broken nose was courtesy of Bulwark, though it had been just as much Shiro’s fault as the anxious hero’s. Shiro had taken a sharp corner in pursuit of a droid and ended up slamming into one of his force fields face first. He was honestly lucky he didn’t fall out of the air.

Shiro wasn’t entirely sure how he broke his finger, but he knew it happened at some point when he accidentally set off one of Gadget’s traps pre-maturely with his lightning, not only effectively electrocuting himself but also allowing several droids to get away.

And the aching, bruised jaw? Heat Wave had jumped off a platform, and Shiro, being the closest flying hero, had swooped in to catch him. That apparently hadn’t been what Heat Wave had wanted, if his extreme startle response and impulsive punch to Shiro’s face were any indication.

Shiro’s injuries, though, weren’t even the worst of it. No, the worst was that they were horrendously, _embarrassingly_ uncoordinated in their attacks and _everyone_ seemed to have a problem with at least one other member of the team. And boy, were they not afraid to show it.

Slingshot and Heat Wave not getting along, Shiro had expected. But everything else came a little out of left field.

Princess Allura and Gadget got into a shouting match that looked like it only just avoided becoming physical. Slingshot wouldn’t stop throwing barbs at Lotor and Heat Wave. Lotor seemed to deal with this by completely ignoring Slingshot’s existence, which wasn’t exactly conducive to team-building and was much pettier than Shiro had expected from the man. Heat Wave, on the other hand, would either throw an insult back at Slingshot or take out his frustration on a droid.

Then, Heat Wave and Bulwark got into it over Bulwark turning invisible for most of the training session, which seemed to piss off both Slingshot _and_ Gadget. And when Shiro tried to play referee, Gadget turned on Shiro for messing up her equipment with his lightning.

Even Lotor and Allura had suddenly gotten snappy with each other.

And suddenly, somehow, the training session was over, far too many droids were destroyed or had sustained ‘fatal blows,’ and everyone was yelling at everyone else.

Shiro was arguing with both Gadget and Bulwark—trying to explain to Bulwark that while Heat Wave was being rude about it, his critiques were actually valid, and that he hadn’t _meant_ to ruin Gadget’s equipment and he was sorry about it—when he noticed Heat Wave angrily walk away from Slingshot.

“Hey!” Slingshot yelled, taking several steps after him. “I wasn’t fucking finished!”

Heat Wave stopped in his tracks, his entire body radiating tension. Everyone immediately went silent and turned to watch the two. Shiro glanced down and noticed Heat Wave’s hands shaking.

“I’m. Leaving,” Heat Wave said, barely turning his head to the side. His tone was clipped, and Shiro could hear the undercurrent of barely restrained anger. He wasn’t sure what Slingshot and Heat Wave had been saying to each other, but Shiro felt something like dread fill his stomach and start to crawl up his throat.

“Oh, that’s just _great_ ,” Slingshot said, seemingly unaware of how the two of them had become the center of attention. “So, what? That’s how you deal with your problems? If you can’t _burn it_ or _freeze it_ , you just fucking _run away?!_ ”

Heat Wave turned slowly around, steam beginning to rise from his shoulders. “You don’t know a _fucking_ thing about me.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know all I need to know about _you_ ,” Slingshot snarled, stepping close enough to jab a finger into Heat Wave’s chest. “When you’re not a _bitchy coward_ , you’re nothing but a violent, dangerous _freak!_ ”

Heat Wave’s body suddenly erupted in flame, throwing Slingshot back several feet. A ring of fire spread around Heat Wave, while ice formed on his right side in sheets before sliding wetly to the ground, more forming to take its place.

Slingshot quickly recovered and looked ready to lunge at Heat Wave, flames be damned, so Shiro jumped into action.

He leapt into the air and beat his wings violently above the two of them, forcing some of Heat Wave’s flames to go out and knocking Slingshot back a few more steps. He then landed between them in a crouch, one hand briefly touching the floor before he stood up in a fluid motion, folding his wings behind him.

“ _That’s enough_ ,” he said, voice reverberating around the room. He looked from Slingshot to Heat Wave. “This is _not_ how heroes act, let alone a team of them.”

Slingshot scrambled to his feet, and Heat Wave’s flames had gone out and the ice around him was rapidly beginning to melt. Both looked shame-faced over what had just happened. Shiro eyed the entire group for emphasis.

He took several deep breaths, calming himself from the sudden adrenaline spike.

“Look,” he started, calmer. “We’re all aching and frustrated. It’s been a rough training session. Let’s just… call it a day and try again next week.”

Everyone nodded and murmured their assent before starting to wander off. Shiro turned around to face Heat Wave, hoping to catch him before he could leave this time, but all that was left was a puddle of water on the ground.

Shiro sighed deeply and lifted a hand to rub over his face, wincing when he touched his still-healing nose and jaw.

That… could have gone better.

* * *

Shiro headed for the locker room to clean himself up after training. On his way, an agent stopped him and informed him that Director Kolivan wanted to see him. So after cleaning the blood off his face, Shiro headed for Kolivan’s office.

He knocked when he reached the door.

“Director? It’s Guardian.”

“Come in,” Kolivan’s muffled voice said behind the door.

Shiro let himself in, closing the door behind him. The office looked exactly like it had the last time Shiro had been in there, only now there was a mug on the desk. It said ‘#1 Dad’ on the side, only ‘Dad’ was crossed out with sharpie and ‘director’ was written above it.

Shiro stared at it, distracted for a moment as he wondered who the hell was brave enough to play that kind of joke on the director. Or if the director did it himself just to fuck with people.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Shiro asked, shaking himself out of it as he came to a stop in front of the desk.

“Guardian,” Kolivan said, nodding in greeting before gesturing to the stool behind Shiro. “Have a seat. How’d the first training session go?”

Shiro sat down heavily, leaning forward with his elbows balanced on his thighs and burying his face in his hands.

“It was bad.”

He explained the whole incident in detail, trying to treat it like a debriefing in the hopes that it wouldn’t make him feel quite as awful about it. It didn’t really help.

At the end of it, Kolivan sat in quiet, contemplative silence, not giving Shiro any sort of reaction. After a minute that seemed to stretch for hours, Shiro finally broke the silence.

“Why’d you make me leader?” His voice came out quiet, resigned.

“I’ve never led any team before. My track record begins and ends with team ups in the field, but that hardly constitutes experience running a team,” he said, voice slowly gaining volume. “I don’t even know if it’s possible for us to _be_ a team! I mean, look at us. This is only our second time meeting and we’re already at each other’s throats!”

Shiro stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of Kolivan’s desk.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to fix this, how to make things work between everyone. How are we supposed to go out there and defend people against threats when I can’t even get my team to stop arguing with each other?!”

Shiro stopped in front of Kolivan’s desk, his hands hitting the desk with a loud bang as he leaned towards him.

“Why did you make me leader?” He asked, and his tone almost made it sound like he was begging.

Kolivan raised his eyebrows at Shiro, glancing down at his hands on Kolivan’s desk before meeting Shiro’s eyes again. Shiro immediately deflated, slumping back down onto his stool. They sat in silence for a little longer until Kolivan pressed the touchpad on his desk, bringing up a holoscreen with several images of an anti-alien protest.

Shiro frowned at the images, but before he could ask what the hell an anti-alien protest had to do with anything, Kolivan started speaking.

“Last night in front of Blade HQ there was a protest against Princess Allura’s inclusion on this team. Princess Allura went to try and reason with the protestors, and ended up having a bunch of xenophobic slurs and a fair number of other insults hurled at her for her troubles.”

Shiro sat up straight in his chair, a frown marring his features. He… hadn’t known that.

Kolivan swiped his finger across the touchpad and the images changed to a new article titled ‘3 OFFICERS HOSPITALIZED, BLACK VOID GANG STILL AT LARGE’.

“Bulwark and Gadget have been working the Black Void case together for weeks now. The suspects had already slipped away three times before, and they had hoped to bring them in early this morning with the help of the OPD. He got away again, and now three officers are in the hospital, one of them in critical condition.”

The next image was another article, this time of an apartment fire that happened yesterday.

“There was a fire late last night in an apartment building close to where Slingshot usually patrols, and so he stepped in to help, despite fires not being his forte. He was able to save seven people, but he couldn’t get to a little boy hiding in his closet before he succumbed to the smoke. He had to hold the mother back from rushing into the building when she arrived, and watched as a fireman carried out the little boy’s body.”

“Jesus Christ.” Shiro’s stomach dropped and he struggled to swallow over the sudden lump in his throat.

The next image was an older article that Shiro definitely remembered.

“Today is the anniversary of the Butcher’s largest massacre, which occurred while Heat Wave was tracking him down. I know for a fact that Heat Wave visits the victim’s graves every year. I also know that he still hasn’t forgiven himself for not stopping the Butcher sooner.”

The next article Shiro also remembered, though it was much older than the others.

“And two days from now will be the anniversary of Lotor’s parent’s and his governess’s deaths.”

Kolivan shut down the holoscreen with a swipe of his hand, never breaking eye contact with Shiro.

“Not everything is about you, Guardian. Sometimes, people have bad days. And sometimes, those bad days coincide with five other people’s bad days. Because life’s just shitty like that sometimes.”

Shiro took a shaky breath, and Kolivan gave him a moment to process.

“I… I didn’t know. How didn’t I know?” Shiro asked, shaking his head. “Why didn’t I see that there was something wrong?”

“Because you don’t know them, Guardian,” Kolivan said with a heavy sigh. “None of you know each other, not really. I made those weekly training sessions mandatory because training is important, but training isn’t what makes a team. _Training_ isn’t why I made you the leader.”

Kolivan leaned forward, pointing a finger at Shiro.

“You wanna know why I made you leader, kid? Because you’re a good man. Because I’ve seen the way you can inspire people, not only to work together but to be the best versions of themselves. I’ve seen what you’re capable of, and I’ve seen what every one of these heroes are capable of, and I _know_ the seven of you can be something incredible. You can be _great_.”

Kolivan leaned back, folding his hands on top of his desk.

“ _If_ you let yourselves,” he finished.

Something felt like it was beginning to shake loose somewhere in the confines of Shiro’s chest. Something bigger than his fears. Stronger than his doubts. Greater than his faults.

It felt like a future unfolding. It felt like hope.

“How?” Shiro asked, not quite certain how to go from where they were—scattered and at odds—to the inspiring image Kolivan painted.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Kolivan replied, before waving his hand in a clear dismissal. “Now get the fuck out, I’ve got shit to do.”

Shiro huffed in disbelief, but got up anyway, walking out of the room. He stopped when he reached the door though, turning back to look at Kolivan.

“Director…” Shiro paused, not sure what to say. He settled on, “Thanks.”

Kolivan waved him away again, but Shiro didn’t miss the small smile on his face before he closed the door.

Things weren’t good right now, but… they could be. Shiro just had to figure out how to get there.

* * *

Shiro spent the rest of the day patrolling the city, going over and over what had gone wrong during the training session and trying to come up with ideas on how to bring the team together.

By the time he got home, it was 11 at night and he was simultaneously exhausted and too restless to sleep. Physically, all he wanted to do was go to bed, but his brain was far too awake for that and he knew he was probably going to end up spending half the night tossing and turning.

With a sigh, he trudged down the stairs from the roof and onto his floor, digging his keys out of his pocket. He came to a sudden stop, though, when he turned down his hallway to find Keith sitting outside his door.

“Keith?” He called out in confusion.

Keith lifted his head, and Shiro felt his breath catch in his throat at the look in his eyes. He rushed forward, closing the distance between them in a few strides.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Keith sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Can I, uh... can I come in?” he asked, voice croaky, like he’d been crying.

“Yeah, of course,” Shiro said, offering his hand to Keith and helping the man to his feet.

He quickly unlocked the door and ushered Keith in, frowning as he watched Keith head straight for Shiro’s couch and sit down heavily, arms braced on his knees.

“Keith?” Shiro asked hesitantly. He walked closer, not quite sure what to do with himself.

Keith sighed again, lifting a hand and covering his eyes with it.

“Sorry, sorry,” he choked out. “I know I’m being weird, just. It’s been a really fucking bad day.”

Shiro walked closer, taking a hesitant seat next to Keith on the couch. He kept his distance a bit, not sure if Keith wanted to be physically comforted, even though every fiber of Shiro’s being was telling him to reach out and pull Keith into a hug.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shiro asked quietly.

Keith shook his head silently, hand still covering his eyes. His other was clenched into a fist, and Shiro ached to hold it, to unfurl his fingers and fit his own in between.

“No, no,” Keith said. “Can we just…” He paused for a long moment, swallowing thickly. “Can you just sit with me?” He asked, voice breaking a little on the last word.

The sound nearly broke Shiro’s heart and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He closed the few inches between them and placed a gentle arm around Keith, slowly rubbing up and down his back in a comforting gesture.

“Of course,” he murmured. “Take all the time you need. I’ll stay.”

Keith made a choked, broken off noise before turning and wrapping his arms around Shiro’s middle and burying his face in his chest. Shiro grunted in surprise, but quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around Keith in return.

His entire body was tense, his breathing ragged and hitching like he was holding back tears. Shiro began to slowly rub up and down Keith’s back, making quiet shushing noises and whispering comforting platitudes into his hair.

While holding Keith, the memory of his talk with Kolivan earlier that afternoon floated into his head. There had been a fire early that morning. A little boy had died. A fireman had carried his body out of the building. Shiro held Keith a little tighter, heart clenching at the thought that it might have been Keith.

Slowly, so slowly, Keith began to relax, his breathing evening out and deepening. Shiro wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but eventually Keith pulled away, turning to the side to surreptitiously wipe at his eyes.

“Heh,” Keith huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry… that was, uh. Yeah.”

Shiro gave him a small, reassuring smile, keeping his hand on Keith’s back. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

Keith sighed and slumped back, head leaned back to stare up at the ceiling. Shiro leaned back too, matching Keith’s position. He sat quiet and patient, letting Keith decide what he wanted to do.

“I don’t… really have many friends,” Keith said, eyes still trained on the ceiling. “I have enough acquaintances. Some co-workers I’m kinda friendly with. But, uh. You’re basically my only _friend_.”

Shiro turned his head to look at Keith’s face and saw him swallow nervously.

“I’m, uh. I’ve never really been _good_ with people. Or…,” Keith sighed. “More like I never let people get close. I don’t… _trust_ easy. Got a lot of walls up. Probably cause my mom left when I was a baby, then dad died when I was eight, so… no parental figures to speak of for most of my life. I mean, my mom came back a few years ago, but…

“I don’t know _why_ you’re different,” he said, shaking his head. “But it’s… easier with you, somehow.”

Keith went quiet, his mouth twisting like he was holding something back.

“I usually push people away, you know?” Keith said, his voice a little thicker. “Let them go before they can reject me. And part of me has been wanting to do that to you, but I… I _can’t_ this time. I don’t want to let you go. Even though part of me _knows_ you’ll probably end up hating me at some point. That the closer I let you, the more you know me, the more likely it is that you’ll leave me.”

Keith’s breath hitched and he bit down hard on his bottom lip. Shiro couldn’t stay still or quiet anymore, reaching out to take Keith’s hand in both of his.

“I’m not leaving you, Keith,” he said, voice coming out fiercer than he intended. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m right here.”

Keith squeezed his hand back tightly, his face scrunching up with emotion.

“Do you even have any idea what you’ve done for me, Keith?” Shiro asked, his own voice beginning to waver.

Keith finally turned his head to look at him, confusion in his eyes.

“I have been so alone for so long,” Shiro said, shaking his head and turning away.

All the dark, secret feelings he’d had since meeting Keith climbed their way up his throat where they got stuck, choking him. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he was _terrified_ to say. Keith squeezed his hand, and then Shiro pushed through the feeling, opened his mouth, and let slip the darkness within.

“I didn’t know I was drowning, choking on my own loneliness, until I met you,” Shiro whispered. “And every day since, it has been easier to breathe.”

Shiro tried to take a deep breath, but it got stuck halfway and suddenly he realized he was close to crying.

“My parents and I have never really gotten along. We’ve never really even liked each other. That probably sounds awful to you, but, well. It’s the truth. I got along great with my grandpa, though,” Shiro said, and managed to muster up a smile. “I probably spent more nights in his spare bedroom than I did in my own house, growing up. He got me in a way that no one had _ever_ understood me. He was my rock.

“He taught me so much… about life, about my family history, about _me_. He was even the first person I ever came out to. Both times. And he took it great,” Shiro laughed a little wetly.

He sobered quickly, though. “I loved him so much. Still love him… He died. When I was twenty-two. Same year I lost my arm.”

Shiro shook his head, chin quaking as he tried not to cry. “The world was so dark after,” he choked out, voice breaking. “Everything was so dark and hurt _so much_.”

A sob finally forced its way out of his throat, and then suddenly Keith was there, a gentle hand guiding Shiro’s head onto his shoulder, the other wrapping around his waist. Shiro’s hand clutched Keith’s shirt and he took several shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down, but it wasn’t working, the tears weren’t stopping, so he just let them go.

They stayed like that for a while, long enough for Shiro’s breathing to finally start to even out.

“I was eventually able to pull myself out of the dark, but I… I wasn’t the same,” Shiro whispered, head still tucked into Keith’s chest. “I threw myself into work and just didn’t look back. It hurt, for a long time, but eventually it got easier. Didn’t go away, but sorta just… became a part of me.”

“Not that it was always bad,” Shiro continued. “But… life is never quite as good as it could be when you’re all alone, is it?”

Keith, whose hand had started to gently pet Shiro’s hair at some point, hummed. “No, it isn’t.”

“And then, suddenly, there was you,” Shiro said, finally pulling out of Keith’s arms. Not because he wanted to lose the contact, but because he wanted to look in Keith’s eyes.

“I think you might have saved me,” Shiro whispered.

Keith’s breath caught in his throat and neither of them seemed able to look away. They were sitting so close now, bodies only inches apart. So close that Shiro could see nearly invisible freckles all over Keith’s cheeks and nose. He looked over them, fascinated at how he’d never noticed them before, and yet they looked so _right_ on Keith’s face instead of foreign and unknown.

“I think you saved me, too,” Keith whispered, a hesitant smile lifting his lips.

Shiro smiled back at him, and for a brief moment, he thought they were both going to lean in and close those last few inches between them with a kiss. But then Keith turned away with a quiet huff and suddenly they were both laughing, quiet and a little broken, but still happy.

“Well,” Shiro said. “That was…”

“Draining?” Keith suggested.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “But also… good?”

Keith smiled. “Yeah. Good, too.”

Shiro smiled back and they sat there quietly for a long while, just looking at each other, until Keith finally broke the silence.

“I, uh, should probably head home,” he said, sounding a little regretful. “Get to bed and everything.”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

They got up and walked to Shiro’s front door slowly, their feet dragging a bit. Shiro unlocked and opened the door for Keith, who stepped through and then stopped, turning back to Shiro. He looked up at him, face uncertain and lips parted like he wasn’t sure what to say. Shiro reached out and placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling at him.

“I’m glad you’re my friend, Keith,” he said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

The smile Keith gave him was soft, and warm, and perfect.

“Me, too, Shiro.”

Keith finally turned away, slipping out from under Shiro’s hand and crossing the hall to his own apartment. He smiled over his shoulder at Shiro before shutting the door and disappearing inside.

Shiro closed his own door and leaned against it with a sigh. His body felt heavy and tired, but his heart felt lighter than it had in years. A thought popped into Shiro’s head, then, sudden and bright.

 _I think I’m in love with him_.


	4. Chapter 4

Realizing he was in love with his best friend wasn’t quite the Earth-shattering realization he thought it would be. Not much changed between him and Keith. They were closer, and a little more affectionate after that late night confessional, but Shiro realized that he didn’t really feel all that different around Keith. Which was strange, considering he now knew he was in love with him.

Maybe he’d always been a little in love with Keith, ever since meeting him.

Part of him recognized that it was all a little ridiculous, all a little too fast. They’d only known each other for a week, and Shiro was already thinking about love? It was so unlike him it was almost hilarious.

But it was real. It was the truth. Shiro loved Keith.

Not that he was going to do anything about it.

In fact, he was more convinced than ever that he shouldn’t mention it at all. Their conversation that night simply served to remind Shiro of how much he had to lose if anyone ever found out his identity. Because Shiro’s _friend_ wouldn’t be in anywhere near as much danger as Shiro’s _boyfriend_.

And Shiro wouldn’t risk Keith’s life. Even if it meant loving him silently. Even if it hurt. Because Keith was his friend, and Shiro would do anything to protect him.

So things continued along the same path for them, only with a few more hugs and a lot more smiles. And if Shiro wanted their hugs to last a little longer, to brush his lips against Keith’s jaw, to cradle his face in his hands and trace the freckles on his cheeks… Well. Shiro could just keep that all to himself.

* * *

A few days after the disastrous training session, Shiro was no closer to coming up with a way to bring the team together. After sitting in his apartment for a while, trying to come up with something, he finally got too restless and decided to go on patrol. He was flying around the city, looking for any sign of trouble, when a flash of red from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looped back around to investigate and found Heat Wave sitting on top of a high rise, feet dangling over the edge.

Shiro landed behind him with a whoosh of air, folding his wings neatly. Heat Wave turned to look at him, and Shiro opened his mouth to greet him, but instead what came out was:

“How the hell did you get up here? You can’t fly.”

Heat Wave barked a sharp, disbelieving laugh and shook his head. “I have my ways,” he replied with a smirk.

Shiro snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Bond, keep your secrets.”

Heat Wave laughed again, sounding like he was caught off-guard by his own amusement. Shiro sat down on the ledge a few feet from Heat Wave, letting his legs dangle over the edge. He leaned back on his hands and just looked out over the city, letting the wind whistle around them. It was always windy, this high up.

“Listen, I-”

“Guardian, about-”

They both broke off, chuckling awkwardly.

“You, uh, you first,” Shiro said, gesturing towards Heat Wave.

“Right,” Heat Wave said, frowning out at the city. “I’m sorry about the training session. I know I messed up, lost control. Let my anger get the best of me...”

Shiro watched Heat Wave’s face carefully, or at least what he could see of it under the hood.

“It won’t happen again.”

“Heat Wave…” Shiro started, then sighed. “Look, I talked to Kolivan after training. He told me about the Butcher.”

Heat Wave tensed. “…Oh.”

“Yeah. He, uh, he also told me about the absolute shit day everyone else on the team had apparently been having. Luck of the draw, I guess, that everyone would be having a bad day at the same time, huh?”

“…Yeah, I guess so,” Heat Wave said, looking contemplative behind his mask.

“I think we all just… got off on the wrong foot,” Shiro continued. “None of us know each other that well, or at least don’t know more than one or two other teammates, so it was a bad decision on my part to just throw us all into combat training. We need to do… _something_ to get to know each other.

“Preferably something with less violence,” Shiro added, tone teasing.

They were quiet for a moment, Heat Wave seemingly taking this information in.

“What Slingshot said was crossing the line,” Shiro said. “It… wasn’t good, that you let your powers slip, but… you didn’t _hurt_ anyone, and if I’m completely honest, I would have come pretty close to punching Slingshot myself if he’d said that to me.”

“Heh, yeah right,” Heat Wave muttered.

Shiro shook his head. “I appreciate your apparent faith in me, but I’m definitely not some perfect bastion of self-control,” he said, smiling a bit self-deprecatingly. “And if I’d had the day you did, and then Slingshot came at me like that? …Yeah, I really might have punched him.”

Heat Wave made a face at that, like he wasn’t sure how to fit this new information into the picture he had of Guardian. Shiro was generally pretty happy to shatter people’s preconceived ideas about him. He’d always hated being put on a pedestal or treated like he was better than others, above reproach. Respect and admiration were one thing, but Guardian was no angel and he didn’t like to be treated like one.

“Do you… do you know _why_ Slingshot dislikes you so much?” Shiro asked, hoping not to upset Heat Wave.

Instead of getting angry, though, Heat Wave just sighed. “No idea. If I did, I’d have some idea how to fix things, but I literally have _no idea_ why he hates me. I mean, beyond the reasons most people hate me.”

“Which is?”

“Oh, take your pick,” Heat Wave said, holding up a hand and counting on his fingers. “I’m dangerous, my powers are scary, I don’t have a spotless record, I didn’t do a good enough job at _something_.”

“Ah.”

“And I mean, I’d get it if it was that stuff. But he acts like I did something to him _personally_. But I’ve only met the guy _maybe_ five times, and I’m pretty sure he’s hated me for as long as he’s known me, so I have no idea what I could have done to piss him off.”

“Hm…” Shiro hummed, not sure what to say.

“I just wish he didn’t make it so _personal_ , you know? Like, I can handle someone not liking me, _a lot_ of people don’t like me. I’m used to it. I can deal. But he fuckin’… he just… _ugh_.”

“Gets under your skin?” Shiro guessed.

“ _Yes_ , god,” Heat Wave grunted in frustration, putting his head in his hand. “If he could just… hate me silently, that’d be great,” he muttered into his hand.

“I’ll talk to him,” Shiro said. “See if I can figure out the source. I’d rather two of my teammates _didn’t_ hate each other. At the very least, I want everyone to be able to work together.”

“Alright, good luck with that,” Heat Wave replied dubiously.

They were silent for a while, then a thought suddenly popped into Shiro’s head.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Shiro asked.

“You can ask, but I can’t promise I’ll answer,” Heat Wave replied.

Shiro nodded in acceptance. “Earlier, you said you lost control. Did you mean of your powers?”

“…Yes.”

“How?” Shiro asked, confused. “Or, more like… how do your powers work in the first place? ‘Cause mine… mine are very purposeful. I can’t just lose control of my abilities, they don’t work like that.”

Heat Wave was quiet for a long moment, so long that Shiro started to think that maybe he wasn’t going to answer. Then he sighed and shook his head, knocking his hood back. He looked up into the clouds, and the wind whipped his hair around his face, making it impossible to read his expression.

“My powers are connected to my emotions,” Heat Wave said. “It was hard, when I was younger. I didn’t have much control. I’d accidentally hurt people… hurt myself. As I got older, though, controlling it got… not easier, but more manageable.”

Heat Wave sighed and then brought his hands up to his head, gathering his wild hair into a messy bun at the back of his head and tying it with a hair tie. It was… kinda cute. Somehow managed to soften the hardened hero’s look.

“I was an angry person, though, so I still struggled with it for a long time. I’m better with my anger, now, but that’s why… or partly why my track record was pretty spotty in the beginning. And no, you don’t have to say it,” Heat Wave said, holding up a hand as though to stop Shiro from speaking. “I know it was stupid of me to go out and try and play hero when I wasn’t in full control of my abilities. I was a dumb teenager and hindsight is twenty-fuckin-twenty.”

Shiro laughed at that, shaking his head. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Heat Wave looked at him, head tilted in question. Shiro jerked his thumb at himself.

“I was fifteen when I started out,” he explained. “Not my brightest decision, and I certainly made a lot of dumb decisions after that, too. Figured it out eventually, though.”

“No fuckin’ way…” Heat Wave whispered in disbelief. Shiro wouldn’t have heard it over the wind if it weren’t for his advanced hearing. “You were fifteen in Beijing?”

“Yup.”

“Fuck.”

“Ha, yeah,” Shiro said, shaking his head. “Not that I regret it! I don’t. Just… it’s complicated, I guess.”

“You don’t always gotta regret things to wish you hadn’t done them, or to wish things had been different,” Heat Wave filled in.

Shiro nodded.

“Me, too,” Heat Wave said after a few seconds. Shiro turned to look at him, brow furrowed in confusion.

“I was fifteen when I started, too,” Heat Wave explained.

“No shit,” Shiro said, raising his eyebrows and eyeing Heat Wave.

“Here’s to being a stupid teenager,” Heat Wave said, raising an imaginary glass. “And thank god we aren’t anymore.”

Shiro laughed. “What, stupid or teenagers?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m neither,” Heat Wave quipped.

“Oh ho ho,” Shiro laughed, putting a hand to his chest. “ _Harsh_ , Heat Wave.”

Heat Wave smiled, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug.

“Unless you mean to say I look young enough to be a teenager, in which case, I think you need to get your eyes checked,” Shiro joked, smiling back.

“Ha, no,” Heat Wave said, blatantly looking Shiro up and down. A tendril of warmth wiggled its way up Shiro’s spin, which he promptly ignored. “No, you definitely look like a fully grown man.”

Shiro cleared his throat. “Um, thanks?”

Heat Wave jerked his head to face forward again, apparently realizing he was staring.

“I better go,” Heat Wave said, starting to get up. “Patrols and… stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Shiro said, following suit. “Do you need a lift down?”

One side of Heat Wave’s mouth curved up in a lopsided grin. “Nah, I’ll get down the same way I got up.”

Shiro tilted his head in question, and then Heat Wave promptly threw himself off the side of the building.

“Fuck!” Shiro shouted, jumping off after him.

Only, Heat Wave wasn’t falling. Flames from his right hand and foot slowed his descent, making it more of a controlled, slow-motion fall. Heat Wave looked up at Shiro with a cheeky grin, and Shiro laughed in disbelief, following him all the way down to the ground, the two of them landing in an alleyway.

“You…!” Shiro said, shaking his head at Heat Wave who was doubled over laughing.

“Oh, man, you should’ve seen your face,” he wheezed, still laughing.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Shiro said, crossing his arms but unable to stop himself from smiling, too.

“Heh, yeah,” Heat Wave said, smiling while backing away further into the alleyway.

Shiro frowned, wondering what Heat Wave was doing. Then, he saw the motorcycle half hidden behind a dumpster, and Heat Wave pulled it out, climbing on. He revved the engine twice before looking back up at Shiro.

“See you around, flyboy,” Heat Wave said, winking at Shiro and then taking off before Shiro could say anything.

“Put a helmet on!” Shiro shouted after him, though he doubted he’d heard him.

Shiro shook his head, still watching the opening of the alleyway that Heat Wave had disappeared through. He… wasn’t what Shiro had expected. He found himself liking the man a lot, for one thing, despite him being a little bit of a reckless asshole. Or maybe because of it, since Shiro was self-aware enough to admit that he could be a little bit of a reckless asshole himself at times.

Deciding he should probably get back to his own patrolling, Shiro took off into the air. He spent the next few hours circling the city, stopping a few muggings and an attempted robbery. Eventually, he turned back for home. Along the way, he passed a sign on the side of a building, and suddenly an idea popped into his head.

Shiro grinned. He knew _exactly_ what his team could do to get to know each other better.

* * *

The second training session wasn’t nearly as bad as the first, though there was still a _lot_ of room for improvement. Slingshot and Heat Wave were still at odds, and some of the others were still tense and awkward, but no one started yelling or throwing punches, so Shiro counted it as a win.

At least he had fewer bruises this time.

“Alright, everyone, today was a lot better!” Shiro enthused, grinning at all of them. “We’ve still got a lot of room for improvement, but I think we’re on the right track.”

A few of the others nodded, while others looked doubtful.

“Let’s call it a day,” he said, effectively dismissing them.

Everyone turned to leave, but Shiro reached out to tap Lotor on the shoulder.

“Oh, Lotor, hold on, I had something I wanted to talk to you about,” Shiro said, pulling the man to the side.

Lotor nodded, a frown marring his face. “Let me just send my suit off,” he said. The Sincline suit sort of… opened around him, allowing him to step out of it. It then closed back up like normal and took off into the air, flying out of the room.

Shiro stared after it, dumbfounded. Lotor’s suit was so fuckin’ cool. He looked back at Lotor, who was now standing in black, tight-fitting athletic wear and those weird toed tennis shoes.

Lotor’s frown melted into a smile. “Surprised?”

“I’m not gonna lie, that suit of yours is really fuckin’ cool,” Shiro said, making Lotor laugh.

“Thank you, I think so, too,” Lotor said with a smile before sobering. “If this is about the last training session… please allow me to apologize for my behavior. I acted in a very… unseemly manner.”

“Oh, uh, it’s all good, Lotor. Thanks,” Shiro said. “But that’s actually not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Lotor asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, I, uh. I wanted to ask you for a favor, actually.”

Lotor’s eyebrows shot up. “What kind of favor?” he asked warily.

“Well, I wanted to try doing something to… boost team morale, I guess. To help us get to know each other and maybe work out the issues we’re having outside of training.”

“Ah,” Lotor said. “And you need a place to do this outside of Blade?”

“Yeah, yes, exactly.”

Lotor shrugged. “Well, I certainly have the room. What exactly did you have in mind? Not… team building exercises or anything, right?”

Shiro laughed at the slight look of disgust on Lotor’s face and patted the man on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask anyone to do trust falls or anything like that. I had something else in mind...”

* * *

_Two Days Later_

“A movie night!” Allura cried excitedly, bouncing over to Shiro the moment she stepped off the elevator to Lotor’s penthouse at the top of Galra Tower. “What a wonderful idea, Guardian. Human cinema is so delightful.”

“I’m glad you think so, Princess,” Shiro said, smiling down at her.

She was wearing a short, pink plaid skirt and a white sweater, her long hair cascading in waves around her shoulders and down her back, half of it up in a bun at the back of her head.

“You look nice,” Shiro commented.

Allura’s smile widened. “Thank you! I bought the skirt only last week and I’ve been dying to wear it somewhere.”

“I’ll have to agree with Guardian,” Lotor said, walking into the room and smiling at Allura warmly. “You look beautiful, Allura.”

Allura’s smile turned somewhat shy and she glanced down for a moment, hand going up to play with her hair before she looked back at Lotor.

“Thank you,” she finally said, before looking Lotor up and down. “You look nice, as well. Quite fetching.”

Shiro had to agree with the princess, briefly looking Lotor over. He was wearing a pair of slacks with a dress shirt, vest, and tie. He’d look like he was going to some sort of high society party, only his sleeves were rolled up, a few buttons were undone at the top of his shirt, and his tie was loosened, giving him an artfully ruffled appearance.

Before Lotor and Allura could flirt some more in front of him, a posh British woman’s voice came through the speakers.

“Sir, Bulwark, Slingshot, and Gadget are on the elevator to the penthouse and will arrive shortly.”

Allura and Shiro both looked up at the ceiling, where the voice had seemingly come from.

“Was that DAYAK?” Allura asked excitedly.

“Yes, that’s her,” Lotor said, smiling fondly.

“DAYAK?” Shiro asked.

“My AI,” Lotor explained. “If you ever have any questions, just ask her. She’s designed to help with whatever you need.”

“I live to serve, sir,” DAYAK said, sounding incredibly sarcastic for a computer.

“You’ll have to excuse her, she has a terrible sense of humor,” Lotor said, lips twitching. “No idea where she got it from.”

“Uh… noted,” Shiro said, glancing at the ceiling a little nervously. A computer with a sense of humor… Lotor’s life was like its very own sci-fi movie. He just hoped it was more the hopeful, inspiring kind of sci-fi instead of the horror, technology-will-kill-us-all kind.

Just then, the elevator dinged and the doors slide open, revealing Bulwark, Slingshot, and Gadget. Bulwark was wearing his cowl along with a yellow, blue, and brown jacket on top of a Polaroid shirt and jeans. Slingshot, eye mask firmly in place, was in a stylish suede jacket, dark blue button-up, and black jeans. Gadget was… well, wearing her hero outfit, minus her goggles.

Slingshot let out a long, low whistle as he stepped into the penthouse, looking around with interest. “Damn, get a load of this place.”

“Welcome to my home, you three,” Lotor said, stepping forward to greet them.

“Nice, er, penthouse,” Bulwark said, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“Thank you.”

“Uh, Gadget,” Shiro said, staring at her bare face. “You’re not wearing your…” He gestured at his face.

“Yeah, I know,” Gadget said, sticking her hands in her pockets. “I figured I might as well. Not like any of you are gonna recognize me, I’m not famous or anything.”

“I… guess,” Shiro replied, though he didn’t really get it. He trusted his fellow heroes enough to have his back in the field, but couldn’t imagine just letting the others see him outside of his hero costume. Or, in his case, without the use of his amulet.

“So!” Slingshot said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Oh, but Heat Wave isn’t here yet,” Allura said.

“Ugh, _that_ guy’s coming, too?” Slingshot muttered darkly.

Gadget elbowed Slingshot sharply in the side, making him grunt in pain.

“Heat Wave is on his way up now, sirs and madams,” DAYAK said over the loudspeaker, making the three newcomers jump.

“Who was that?” Slingshot asked.

Gadget gasped, eyes going wide. “Is that your AI?!” she nearly shouted.

“Ah, yes, this is DAYAK,” Lotor introduced his computer.

“Pleasure,” DAYAK said dryly.

Gadget gazed up at the closest camera on the ceiling, stars practically twinkling in her eyes. “DAYAK is said to be the most advanced AI system ever created! Oh my god, you have to let me see her coding. Please, _please_ let me see her coding.”

Gadget had moved directly into Lotor’s personal space, leaning forward so far in her excitement she forced Lotor to lean back. He looked at her with wide eyes, holding his hands up in front of him as though he was ready to push her away if she got any closer.

“Perhaps… another time,” Lotor said, voice strained.

Just then, the elevator doors opened and Heat Wave stepped out in his full hero costume, eye mask and all. He raised his eyebrows at the scene in front of him, eyeing Gadget and Lotor.

“Heat Wave,” Shiro said, grinning and stepping around the others. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Heat Wave said, the corners of his lips twitching up in a tiny smile.

Shiro turned back towards the others, intent on asking Lotor about snacks and refreshments, when Heat Wave made a surprised noise beside him.

“Weird sweater,” he said, examining Shiro’s back curiously.

“You say the nicest things, Heat Wave,” Shiro replied sarcastically.

Heat Wave looked up at him, smile growing a little. “How does it… work?”

“Well,” Shiro started, a devious smile growing on his face. “It’s a piece of clothing that goes on the top half of the body, and-”

Heat Wave punched him in the shoulder, grinning now. “Ass, you know what I meant.”

Shiro laughed, then gestured down his right side with one of his gloved hands. “It buttons up here. I put it on over the head like a normal shirt, but it wraps around my torso and buttons up, leaving a hole for my wings.”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed that, how interesting,” Allura commented, reminding Shiro of the others’ presence.

Shiro turned to face them, finding everyone watching them with varying expressions. Some surprised, some curious, some confused. Except for Slingshot, who seemed to be doing his best to ignore that Heat Wave existed.

Shiro opened his mouth then closed it, not sure what to say, but fortunately he was saved by Lotor, who stepped in and seamlessly took over everyone’s attention.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” Lotor said, moving to the center of their group. “Shall we gather the refreshments and head for the den?”

Everyone murmured their agreement and they all shuffled into the kitchen. Lotor headed for the fridge, recruiting Heat Wave and Allura to help him with the drinks, leaving the rest of them to carry the honestly astonishing amount of snacks. Several bowls of popcorn, five different kinds of chips, seven types of dips, a bowl of trail mix, and a myriad of different kinds of candy.

“Holy shit, are these dips fuckin’ _gourmet?_ ” Slingshot asked, picking up two of the jars.

They eventually got all of the food and drinks into the den and everyone spread out and settled in.

Allura sat down on the loveseat, and while Slingshot looked like he really wanted to take the seat next to her, Lotor got there first. Slingshot then slinked over to the couch Bulwark and Gadget were sharing, squeezing in beside the two of them. Shiro sat down on the ottoman in front of a leather chair, since it was the only place he could really sit comfortably with his wings. This left only two chairs open—one beside the couch Bulwark, Gadget, and Slingshot were sharing and the one behind Shiro.

“You mind if I…” Heat Wave asked, gesturing to the seat behind Shiro.

“Oh, no, go ahead,” Shiro replied, scooting the ottoman forward more.

Heat Wave sat down behind him and Shiro felt a strange twist in his stomach. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but he put it down to being nervous about this night going well.

“Alright, what should we watch?” Lotor asked the group.

“Whaddya got?” Slingshot asked, already sprawling across the couch.

Lotor paused. “If you can think of it, I have it.”

Bulwark and Gadget exchanged a look that Shiro interpreted to mean ‘rich people, amiright?’

Soon, the group began debating what to watch. Shiro didn’t really care what they watched, though, as long as no one started fighting, so he zoned out on the conversation. He was jolted out of his daze, however, by a sudden tug on his hair from behind and he turned to look over his shoulder. Heat Wave had his braid in his hand and a smile dancing on the edge of his lips.

“I like the braid, by the way,” Heat Wave said, voice dropping to be just between the two of them. “It’s… cute.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Shiro said. “Without the headpiece, the long hair kinda gets in the way.”

“Hm,” Heat Wave hummed, before flicking the braid over Shiro’s shoulder. “It’s a good look.”

Before he could come up with a reply, he picked up on a brewing argument over what to watch, and so decided to intervene.

“Alright,” he said, raising his voice above the others. “How about, since Lotor was kind enough to let us use his home, he picks the movie. And then we can all take turns from here on out.”

“This is going to be a regular thing?” Bulwark asked.

“I’d like it to be,” Shiro said, and Bulwark smiled.

“Well, then,” Lotor said, settling back in his seat. “If I’m choosing… DAYAK, _Pacific Rim_ , if you please.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Slingshot enthused, snuggling back into the couch. “Giant robots fighting monsters, what’s better than that?”

“I like the drift compatibility thing,” Shiro commented as DAYAK pulled up the movie.

“Heh, me, too,” Heat Wave said behind him, and Shiro turned his head briefly to smile at him.

“DAYAK, lights to 20%,” Lotor said.

Then, the lights lowered, the movie started, and everyone settled in.

* * *

Movie nights became a regular thing, and it did exactly what it was supposed to. The camaraderie they built during movie nights bled over to their training sessions, making them more coordinated, better able to predict each other’s moves, and overall just helping them get along better.

After a few weeks of this, Allura and Lotor suggested they add dinner to the mix. So, instead of meeting only once a week for mandatory training, they met three times a week: Friday afternoon training, Sunday night movies, and Wednesday night dinner.

The extra time together only seemed to encourage their teamwork, making them significantly better than where they started. Even Slingshot and Heat Wave were less hostile, even downright friendly at times. For a while, Shiro thought he might not even have to intervene after all.

However, tension remained between the two, and would still occasionally boil over. While nothing quite as disastrous as their first training session occurred, they still tended to butt heads at less than opportune times.

So, when the opportunity arose for Shiro to talk with Slingshot one-on-one, he jumped on the chance.

It was another movie night, and it was Allura’s turn to choose, meaning they had anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour to kill since the alien princess tended to take her cinema choices very seriously. When Slingshot wandered off into the kitchen to refill his drink, Shiro followed after him under the guise of getting more chips.

When he entered the kitchen, Slingshot was digging through the fridge, half of his body seeming to disappear inside.

“Hey, Slingshot,” Shiro greeted.

Slingshot jumped and hit his head on the shelf above him, cursing.

“Hey, Guardian,” Slingshot said, rubbing the back of his head. “You, uh, want anything to drink?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Shiro said.

Slingshot nodded, closed the fridge, and then opened his drink, taking a big gulp. Shiro busied himself going through Lotor’s many cabinets, looking for the chips.

“So, Slingshot,” he said, trying for casual and probably missing by a mile. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Um, yes?” Slingshot replied, sounding nervous.

Shiro turned and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms and giving Slingshot a curious look. “Why’d you become a hero?”

Slingshot’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why did I become a hero? Uh, well… because I wanted to? I dunno. I mean, I’ve idolized heroes for pretty much my entire life. Beijing happened when I was still a kid, you know? So, I kinda grew up looking up to you.”

Slingshot blushed and stammered. “Uh, I mean, not just, uh, not _just_ you, I mean, like, heroes. Lots of heroes. I looked up to lots of heroes. ZigZag. Princess Allura. Shockwave. You know. Lots of heroes.”

He cleared his throat. “Um. Anyways. So, when I got my powers—in an accident, by the way, I dunno if that’s in the file Blade gave you—I just thought… what better way to use them, you know? Saving people, doing good. And, well,” Slingshot grinned. “The ladies _do_ love a hero.”

Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it, deciding to just not address that comment at all.

“So, then…” Shiro started then paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “What is it about Heat Wave that you… _don’t_ like?”

Slingshot frowned. “What’s there to like?” He asked flatly, turning away and taking a drink.

“Come on, Slingshot, I know you don’t mean that,” Guardian said. “I’ve seen how you can get caught up in the moment and actually _get along_ with Heat Wave. And I know you know that Blade wouldn’t allow Heat Wave to remain a hero if they thought he was a danger to civilians.”

Slingshot frowned down into his drink, shoulders hunching.

Shiro softened his tone. “You can talk to me, you know. I mean, I’d like to think by this point that we’re… friends?”

Slingshot glanced up at him, then down to his drink, back and forth several times before he heaved a massive sigh and downed the rest of his drink. He then slumped on top of the kitchen island, head hanging down between his elbows.

“I used to idolize him, too, you know?” Slingshot said quietly, voice sounding small.

Shiro’s eyebrows shot up, honestly shocked at the admission.

“I mean, he’s so _powerful_. And he’s close to my age, too. Only, what? A year older than me?” Slingshot shook his head, finally lifting it to look off into the distance. “Man, I remember when he first debuted. God, he was such a _badass_. And he had so much style, and just. Ugh. He was the coolest thing, when I was fourteen.”

Shiro covered his mouth with his hand, smothering a grin. He didn’t want Slingshot to think he was laughing at him, especially since he _wasn’t_ , but it was still ridiculous to imagine a tiny, fourteen-year-old Slingshot thinking Heat Wave was _the coolest thing_.

“When I first got my powers, I would think ‘I’m gonna be like Guardian. Like ZigZag. _Like Heat Wave_.’” Slingshot snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. Right. I trained my ass off with Blade, learned to control my power as easy as breathing. So when I debuted, I knew I was ready. I could feel it in my bones. But, uh…”

Slingshot paused, sniffing and rubbing his nose. “I screwed up. My first shot at a criminal bigger than a mugger or purse snatcher, and I _screwed up_. It was some villain that had been giving heroes the run around for weeks, fucking things up. Killing people. Something Goblin, or something, I don’t really remember. And I thought, ‘Well, hey! If _I_ can get this guy, then I can make a name for myself!’”

He shook his head. “I heard that _Heat Wave_ of all heroes was after the guy, and I thought it was even better, ‘cause I could impress one of my idols, you know? And maybe the notorious loner hero would even want to team up with me. Instead, I… I ended up messing up Heat Wave’s plan. I _got in his way_ ,” Slingshot hissed, sounding like he was quoting someone.

“…The villain got away. Heat Wave couldn’t even chase after him, ‘cause he had to save some civilians. And I went up to him after to, you know, apologize, ‘cause I _knew_ I’d screwed up, but he just. He exploded at me! Yelling in my face about how I had no business being a hero if I was just going to get in everyone else’s way. Then he just… left.”

Slingshot rubbed at his eyes. “It hurt, hearing that stuff from him. And after a while, it really pissed me off. Even though part of me always thought he was probably right… But I started to hate him for it. Then, I met him for a second time, and he… he didn’t even _remember_ me. Literally asked if we’d met before. Like… _fuck_ , that hurt. So… I just decided to hate him from then on. Not let him get to me again.”

“Slingshot…” Shiro said, not sure what to say.

Slingshot sighed. “Look, I get it, I do. I _know_ I’m probably overreacting. That Heat Wave really isn’t some monster, and he _is_ really good at his job. But… I don’t _trust him_ , Guardian. And I don’t think I can.”

Shiro stood there in silence for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. “Slingshot… I don’t necessarily think you’re overreacting. What Heat Wave said to you? That was kind of cruel of him. And it’s impossible for me to say what drove Heat Wave into that kind of anger, ‘cause I don’t really know what was going on with him then. But I _do_ know that Heat Wave _wants_ to make things work between the two of you, now.

“Do you… do you _still_ hate Heat Wave?” Shiro asked.

Slingshot sighed. “No. I don’t always _like_ him, but I don’t… I don’t hate him.

“But I still don’t trust him,” Slingshot said, hand cutting through the air for emphasis.

Shiro nodded and shrugged. “Trust can take time to build, especially when you’ve had such a… rocky start.”

Slingshot snorted.

“I’m sure if you were to explain things to Heat Wave, let him know that he really hurt you—”

“Oh, no,” Slingshot interrupted. “No, no, no. No. I am _definitely_ not telling him he hurt me. No fuckin’ way.”

“Slingshot,” Shiro admonished. “I’m sure he’d feel bad and apologize—”

“I don’t need an apology!” Slingshot interrupted, again. “I’m good. For realsies.”

Shiro made a doubtful face. “Are you sure? Cause I really think if you two just talked—”

“Nope,” Slingshot said, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh. Not doin’ it.”

Shiro sighed. “Fine. So what do you plan to do, then?”

“I guess I can… _try_ to be less… of an asshole…” Slingshot ground out.

Shiro huffed a laugh, turning back around to resume his search for the chips. “That’s a start, I guess.”

Sensing the end of the conversation, and likely wanting to get as far away from the situation as possible, Slingshot nodded and started shuffling back in the direction of the den.

“Oh, one more thing, Slingshot,” Shiro said.

He turned back and caught Slingshot frozen in place, glancing nervously back at Shiro.

“…Yes?”

Shiro walked up to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good hero, Slingshot. And I know Kolivan made the right choice, when he chose you for this team. We wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Slingshot’s eyes went wide and a little watery. He coughed, turning his head and surreptitiously wiped at his eyes.

“Sorry, just,” he sniffled. “Got something in my eye. I’m gonna… go to the bathroom. Wash it out.”

He turned and made a hasty retreat. Shiro smiled after him before returning to his chip quest. He had faith that everything would work out in the end.


	5. Chapter 5

The call came during one of their Wednesday night dinners, just as they were sitting down.

An alarm blared over Lotor’s speakers before quickly cutting out, DAYAK’s voice taking over.

“Sir, I’m receiving multiple reports of villain activity, and Director Kolivan is on the line,” she said.

“Put him through,” Lotor commanded, looking around the table at everyone’s tense faces.

“Lotor, is everyone there with you?” Kolivan’s voice said through the speakers without preamble.

“We’re all here, Kolivan,” Shiro answered, already standing up. “What’s the situation?”

“Looks to be some kind of organized villain attack. We’ve got Haxus and his freaky robot swarm, Warlord Ranveig, Dark Druid, and Myzax confirmed at three different locations.”

“What are they doing?” Gadget asked.

“As of right now, scaring the shit out of civilians, but otherwise, nothing. They’ve clearly got something planned.”

“This sounds like a trap,” Bulwark said, though strangely, he didn’t seem so nervous in the face of a real fight.

“It’s definitely a trap,” Heat Wave muttered darkly.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll just have to be ready for whatever they throw at us,” Shiro said. “Slingshot, Bulwark, Allura, how long till you can get your gear?”

Slingshot grinned. “Already wearing mine,” he said, pulling his shirt off to reveal his costume underneath.

Bulwark and Allura both had their suits on site, so they ran off to quickly change and meet the others on the balcony. Lotor’s suit was already waiting for him when they stepped outside, and he quickly climbed in, his faceplate sliding into place. When he stepped out onto the balcony, Shiro transformed into his armor in a flash of light, lightning briefly dancing across his skin

“Lotor, you have the coordinates?” Shiro asked.

“Haxus seems to be hovering above White Lion Park with his swarm, while Ranveig is in the East business district and Myzax is in Alchemy Square. Dark Druid is currently unaccounted for.”

“Still no move to attack civilians or anything else?” Shiro asked.

“Not yet,” Lotor’s robotic voice replied through the armor.

Shiro frowned, taking all of this information in and quickly planning their next move.

“Alright, team, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

* * *

“Oh, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Bulwark groaned several feet below Shiro as he flew over the city.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Gadget hissed beside him.

The two were hooked together and attached to a line that was wrapped around Shiro’s waist. Bulwark was using his abilities to hide them and to obscure the rope, making it appear as though Shiro was flying alone.

“No more chatter, you two,” Shiro said, keeping his eyes forward. “We’re getting close.”

They were rapidly approaching White Lion Park, and Shiro began scanning the area, looking for Haxus and his swarm. He spotted them when he was nearly over the park and looped several times overhead, observing. Haxus had noticed him and was watching him back, but otherwise he wasn’t reacting. Finally, Shiro began his descent.

When he got close to the ground, he beat his wings harder than he needed to, kicking up dust and grass around him and allowing Gadget and Bulwark to land without detection. Shiro felt the line around his waist come loose and slip down his legs as he stood up from his crouch. He made sure not to trip over it as he walked forward to confront Haxus.

He was sitting upon a throne made up of his tiny droids, the rest of the swarm spread out around him, black with glowing red sensors.

“Well, well,” he called out when Shiro got closer. “You’re not who I was expecting, _Guardian_. Where’s my sweet Gadget?”

Shiro came to a stop in front of him, fists clenching. “Oh, I think I’m plenty enough hero for you on my own, don’t you think?” He let lightning crackle over his fists and up his arms threateningly.

Haxus laughed. “Oh, I know you like to _think_ so. But I’ve always preferred a lady’s company over a man’s, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll wait for my little darling. Now, shoo.”

He waved his hand dismissively, and Shiro narrowed his eyes. He needed to keep his attention focused on him somehow…

“I understand,” he said, voice taking an almost mocking tone. “I’d want to avoid fighting me too, if I were you. After all, I could probably take you and your little robots down in one move.”

Haxus whipped his head around and glared at Shiro. Shiro bit back a grin, instead making a pitying face. A flash of rage took over Haxus’s face for a brief moment, there and gone, replaced with a sickly sweet smile.

“I’m not so easily goaded, little bird boy,” he condescended. “I’m here for my Gadget, and I’ll not be distracted by the likes of you.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. So he’d been right. Haxus was after Gadget, and only Gadget. Which begged the question…

“So why work with the others?” Shiro asked, cocking his head to the side. “Ranveig and Myzax aren’t exactly your… type. And you usually work alone.”

Haxus sneered. “No, but they have their uses, just as Druid pointed out. And we do have… _similar_ goals.”

Shiro forced himself not to react outwardly. So, Dark Druid was behind this. He wasn’t exactly surprised.

“Goals?” Shiro asked curiously, relaxing his stance. He didn’t want to engage Haxus yet, not until Gadget and Bulwark were in position.

This time, Haxus’s smile was dark and twisted, just like his real personality. “We all have our… _favorite_ hero.”

Shiro’s jaw clenched. It was true, each of the villains had a hero they always targeted in their attacks. Haxus was obsessed with Gadget, Ranveig wanted nothing more than to rip Lotor and his armor apart, and Myzax’s number one desire seemed to be beating Shiro and Princess Allura into the ground. The only one that didn’t fit was Dark Druid...

“What does Druid get out of this, then? Last I checked, he didn’t care much about any specific heroes.”

Haxus shrugged. “Power, chaos, fear… Who knows, and who cares? He had a half decent idea, so I went along with it. I don’t particularly care about his personal motivations.”

Shiro frowned, wishing he could push the subject but knowing that, in all likelihood, Haxus actually didn’t know. Villain though he was, he was always surprisingly truthful.

“ _Guardian, we’re in position._ ” Gadget’s voice came through the com Shiro had in his ear.

“Really?” Shiro asked instead of replying. “You aren’t worried that Dark Druid will just take all the glory for himself? Maybe he’ll screw you over, take out Gadget himself.”

Haxus lunged out of his seat towards him, rage twisting his face. His droids moved to accommodate his changed position seamlessly.

“He wouldn’t dare,” he hissed. “Gadget is _mine_.”

Shiro’s face and voice hardened. “Gadget belongs to _no one_ , especially not a half-baked villain with a God-complex.”

Haxus’s face twisted even more before smoothing out into a grotesque smile.

“You clearly don’t know your place, _Guardian_.” He spit his name out like a curse. “So I’ll do you a favor and show you exactly where you belong.”

They moved at the same time, Haxus’s robot swarm moving to surround Shiro as Shiro shot into the sky. He dodged and weaved in the air, flying as fast as he could to avoid the swarm. He let lightning crackle over his body, arching out to zap any droid that got too close.

He led the droids on a disjointed path to the rendezvous point, keeping the droids close together behind him. When he reached the building Bulwark and Gadget were on, he sharply changed directions, flying directly up.

He passed the roof, twisting in the air to turn around and land. He skidded across the gravel-topped roof and looked up at the droids, which had stopped chasing him. Haxus suddenly rose up behind them on a smaller group of droids, a sadistic smirk spread across his lips.

“Tired of running already?” he asked mockingly, stepping off his droids and onto the roof. They fanned out around him, creating a huge, threatening black wave behind him.

Shiro grinned. “I wasn’t running.”

Suddenly, Gadget and Bulwark appeared on the side of the roof. Gadget ran forward towards Haxus, while Bulwark stepped back towards the edge of the roof. He created a massive force field around the roof’s perimeter, fencing them in on all sides except above them.

Haxus turned to face Gadget head on, a manic grin spreading across his face. Shiro moved the moment his attention was turned away from him, jumping into the air and flying straight up.

Gadget engaged Haxus in combat, utilizing her electrical whips as Haxus went after her with his droids and a nasty blade. Shiro rose higher and higher in the sky until he reached the edge of Bulwark’s force field. He hovered in the sky, beating his wings to stay level.

Then, Shiro closed his eyes and reached out with his mind for his amulet. The amulet answered his call, and when he opened his eyes, they briefly flashed with a golden light. Above him, clouds began to gather, seemingly out of nowhere, and he could feel the electric tension growing in the air.

Lightning began to arc around him, some of it coming from his own body, some of it from the growing storm above him. He could feel the power building up inside him, around him, more than it felt possible to control. But he could, he knew he could.

“ _Is this really all you’ve got?_ ” He heard Haxus taunt Gadget far below.

Gadget smirked. “ _Not even close. Now, Guardian!”_

The lightning around Shiro ceased. Suddenly, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. He raised his arm above his head, lightning briefly dancing across his fingertips, his wings flaring out behind him. And then he let his hand fall, and with it, an impossible rush of lightning.

As it came crashing down, Haxus’s droids rushed up to meet the lightning, and Gadget turned and ran towards the other side of the roof.

Everything happened in the span of a second. The lightning reached the droids, and the world exploded in a burst of fire and light.

Bulwark’s force field shattered from the force of the explosion, and even from his high vantage point, Shiro felt the force behind it. His eyes scanned the roof rapidly, searching for Gadget and Bulwark. He spotted Bulwark first, encased in one of his force fields and hovering over the side of the roof. He looked surprised, but otherwise unharmed.

After a few more excruciatingly long seconds of searching, Shiro finally spotted Gadget stumbling to her feet from where she’d dove for cover behind an air-conditioner. Relief rushed through him, and he was about to begin his descent back to the roof when he noticed a writhing black mass.

He turned his attention towards it just as Haxus burst out of the half-melted sphere of droids, eyes blazing.

“That was cruel, Gadget,” Haxus panted, beginning to sound a little crazed. “I thought you _liked_ my toys. Why would you let them be _destroyed_ so _crudely_?”

Haxus advanced on Gadget, the remains of his swarm gathered around him.

“I don’t think I want to play anymore,” he said darkly before he and his droids rushed forward towards Gadget.

Gadget took off running and Shiro dived, racing back down to the roof. When he caught on to what Gadget was doing, he changed trajectory, curving to the side a bit. He passed the edge of the roof before Gadget got there, rolling so he was facing the sky just as Gadget leaped off the edge of the roof.

Shiro caught her, turning smoothly so he could continue flying straight. Haxus wasn’t far behind them, riding his remaining droids like a hover board.

“You alright, Gadget?” Shiro asked, back to dodging and weaving.

“Peachy keen,” Gadget yelled over the wind.

“Good. Now, do you have any bright ideas, cause I’m all out,” Shiro called, heading back down towards the park and weaving between the trees for cover.

 Before Gadget could reply, Lotor’s voice came over the com link. “Myzax saw your lightning, Guardian, he’s heading towards your position. He’ll reach you in a matter of minutes.”

“Ranveig saw the lightning, too,” Allura said, letting Shiro know that they were both using the channel that connected all of them. “He hit Slingshot pretty hard before running off towards it.”

“I’m fine, Princess, it’s barely a scratch,” Slingshot replied, though his voice was a little strained.

Shiro frowned, highly doubting that, but didn’t say anything, trusting Slingshot to know his limits.

“Did you get Haxus?” Heat Wave interrupted over the coms, voice gruff.

“Not quite,” Shiro answered, grimacing. “So much for my brilliant plan, huh?”

“Actually, I think I know a way to use this to our advantage,” Gadget said. “Allura, Slingshot, don’t stop Ranveig from getting to White Lion Park, just keep the damage to a minimum. Lotor and Heat Wave, you two do the same with Myzax.”

“What’s your plan?” Lotor asked.

Gadget grinned. “All of them are solo-fighters, but we aren’t, not anymore. We’re a team.”

A grin slowly started to spread across Shiro’s face. “Force them to get in each other’s way.”

“Switch off during the fight, to cause confusion,” Lotor added.

“Overwhelm their defenses,” Heat Wave said, smirk evident in his voice.

“It could work,” Allura said slowly, seeming to warm up to the idea.

“Are we sure?” Bulwark asked, finally entering the conversation. “That’s putting a lot of destructive power all in one place.”

“I say we go for it,” Slingshot said.

“We’re almost to White Lion Park,” Lotor said. “It’s now or never. Your call, Guardian.”

Shiro only needed to give the idea a moment’s thought. “Let’s do it. If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll even draw Dark Druid out with all the chaos.”

“Get ready,” Lotor said, and Shiro heard a rumbling sound. “We’re converging on your location in three, two, one—”

Shiro watched as Myzax’s giant form crashed into the park ahead of them to the right. Lotor and Heat Wave weren’t far behind, Lotor zipping around the giant in his armor while Heat Wave glided into the park on a wave of ice.

Myzax roared when he spotted Shiro and began sprinting towards them full tilt. Shiro beat his wings harder, picking up speed and heading right towards him.

“Get ready, Gadget,” Shiro called.

She tensed, and just as Myzax’s fist came barreling towards them, Shiro tossed her up into the air, twisting and only just dodging Myzax’s punch.

Lotor zoomed right past Shiro and caught Gadget effortlessly, the two rocketing directly at Haxus.

“We’re comin’ in hot!” Slingshot yelled over the coms, right before Ranveig burst through the trees in his huge, clunking armor.

Allura cleared the trees a moment later, hand wrapped around Slingshot’s wrist as she carried him. She soon turned around and around in a circle, before tossing Slingshot through the air towards Myzax.

Then, the real battle began. They moved seamlessly together, weaving in and out of each other’s fights when needed as though they were one entity. One moment, Shiro was punching Ranveig in his armored face. The next, he was tag-teaming Myzax with Heat Wave. Then, he was sending lightning hurtling at Haxus and his droids.

And before he knew it, the battle was over. Haxus was out of droids and stuck in one of Bulwark’s force fields; Ranveig’s armor was fried, keeping him lying on the ground, trapped inside; and Myzax was out cold on the ground.

Everything was silent for a moment, and they all looked at each other, all of them a little surprised at how well that went. None of them were badly injured, property damage was minimum, and there had been no civilian injuries.

“Woo!” Slingshot whooped, pumping a fist in the air. “That was fuckin’ awesome!”

All of them started laughing, a little exhausted, but still happy.

“Wait, what about Dark Dru—” Heat Wave started to say.

Before Heat Wave could even get the word out, Dark Druid appeared in their midst, the space around him turned wavy and unclear as he bent space and time. His face was covered by that strange, bird-like mask as always, his robe billowing around him. Then, he swept his arms outwards, releasing a spray of metal spikes that he used as weapons.

Everyone reacted at once, Bulwark shielding himself and Gadget, Lotor stepping in front of Princess Allura, Shiro side-stepping behind a tree.

Slingshot, though, wasn’t close to any cover, and by the time Shiro realized this, Heat Wave was already moving in front of him. Time seemed to slow down as the spikes rushed towards all of them, everyone seeming to hold their breath, eyes on Heat Wave and Slingshot.

Heat Wave threw his arm out and ice raced forward and up, forming a wall in front of him and racing towards Dark Druid.

It all happened in the span of time between one blink and the next. The spikes clattered uselessly against Bulwark’s force field and Lotor’s armor, and Shiro heard the distinct thumps of metal embedding in wood from his position behind the tree. At their center, Dark Druid stood frozen in place, completely encased in ice, arm outstretched.

“Heat Wave!” Shiro heard Slingshot yell from behind the ice wall.

Fear gripped Shiro’s chest and he took off running, rounding the corner of the wall to find Slingshot holding Heat Wave up from behind, a metal spike partially embedded in Heat Wave’s shoulder.

“Heat Wave!” Shiro yelled, running up to them.

“’m fine,” Heat Wave grunted, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut.

Slingshot was looking down at him, his expression a mixture of shock and fear.

“You saved my life,” he said, voice filled with disbelief. “You jumped right in front of me.”

Heat Wave finally opened his eyes and squinted up at Slingshot, who was still holding him up. His lips spread into a small grin.

“We’re teammates, remember?” he said, voice simultaneously gruff and soft. “I got your back.”

Slingshot’s eyes suddenly got a lot shinier and a distinct tremble started in his lips, so Shiro stepped forward to take Heat Wave from his arms.

“I’ve got him, Slingshot,” Shiro said softly, gently moving Heat Wave so he was leaning against Shiro instead.

Just then, the rest of the team rounded the corner, faces filled with concern.

“He’s alright, everyone,” Shiro said, before they could all start talking at once.

“He needs a doctor,” Bulwark said, looking at the spike in Heat Wave’s shoulder with a disturbed expression.

“I’ve already contacted Blade,” Lotor said. “They should be here any moment.”

True to his word, the park was swarming with Blade agents several minutes later. A few Blade medics rushed over to them and insisted on Heat Wave going back with them to get his wound taken care of. Heat Wave tried to protest, but the combined glares of every last one of his teammates forced him into submission and he went along with only minimal grumbling.

The rest of them stayed behind for the clean-up until Kolivan came along and dismissed them with a wave of his hand and a, “You all look like shit. Go home.”

They all rushed back to Blade HQ and directly to the medical wing, bursting into Heat Wave’s room. A young woman with long blonde hair who’d been leaning over Heat Wave’s bed, checking his injury, shrieked when they all came tumbling in.

“Jesus fuck, Ar,” Heat Wave groaned. “You wanna make me deaf, too?”

Shiro glanced down at the ID clipped to her chest, noting her name: Dr. Romelle Pollux. Dr. Pollux recovered from her shock quickly and glared at the whole group of them.

“What do you lot think you’re doing?” she asked, hands going to her hips.

“Uh, checking on Heat Wave?” Shiro said, voice going up at the end in question. His cheeks were warm with embarrassment.

Dr. Pollux’s face softened and she turned back to Heat Wave, giving one last look over his already-wrapped injury.

“Well, I suppose he’s well enough for visitors,” she said, standing straight and smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt.

Heat Wave rolled his eyes. “I told you I was fine,” he said, directing the comment at Shiro.

Shiro looked at him flatly. “You were stabbed.”

“ _Lightly_ ,” Heat Wave said, moving to get up. “ _Lightly_ stabbed.”

Suddenly, Dr. Pollux’s hand shot out and pushed Heat Wave firmly back against his pillows. Heat Wave let out an ‘oof’ sound. He looked up at her, eyes wide before narrowing.

“ _Romelle_ ,” he warned, pushing up against her hold.

Dr. Pollux’s hand didn’t budge. “You’re not leaving this bed for _at least_ another three hours. Don’t make me tie you down.”

The ‘again’ went unsaid, but was very obviously implied. Shiro felt his eyebrows climb higher and higher as he watched the two enter a staring contest. They were apparently very familiar with each other.

Heat Wave finally broke their stare, huffing and throwing his head back against his pillows.

“ _Fine_ ,” he said, sounding very put upon.

Dr. Pollux snorted, but finally let go of him, straightening his sheets and basically tucking him in. She turned around, eyes going a little wide when she saw all of them still standing there, as though she’d forgotten they were still in the room.

She cleared her throat. “Well, I have other patients to see, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Shiro and the others parted and let her through the door. She closed it quietly behind her, and the moment the door clicked shut, everyone started talking at once.

“Heat Wave,” Shiro boomed, letting his voice carry over all the others. Everyone quieted down, and Shiro lowered his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Ar gave me some of the good stuff, so not too bad,” Heat Wave said, grinning and Shiro noticed that his eyes _did_ look a little unfocused.

“Ooooh, a high Heat Wave?” Slingshot crooned. “Oh man, I wish I had a camera right now.”

“Fuck you,” Heat Wave said without bite, flipping him off.

Everyone laughed, Slingshot snickering into his hand before turning serious.

“Hey, man, I just wanted to say… thanks. For saving me.” Slingshot said, eyes glancing around nervously before landing on Heat Wave. “I guess we _do_ make a pretty good team.”

Heat Wave smiled. “Yeah, guess so.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Gadget groaned, slumping into one of the chairs in the room.

After that, everyone hung around Heat Wave’s room to talk. They were all a little dirty and bruised, but still riding the high of adrenaline from the battle. After a while, Allura perked up, a smile coming over her face.

“Oh! We should come up with a team name!” she said excitedly.

“Team… name?” Bulwark asked.

“Yes!” Allura enthused. “One of my distant cousins has a group of friends that call themselves ‘Lady Sif and the Warriors Three.’ It’s quite popular on Altea for groups of warriors to name themselves so as to be more recognizable to the public.”

“Ooooh, I’ve got a name idea,” Slingshot said, waving his hands around himself dramatically. “How about ‘The Avengers.’”

There was silence for a long moment and then:

“The fuck are we avenging?” Heat Wave asked.

Slingshot shrugged. “I dunno. Stuff?”

“That’s dumb,” Gadget said.

“What about ‘The Justice League?’” Lotor suggested

“Do seven people even count as a league?” Bulwark asked.

“Oh! I know!” Gadget shouted. “How about ‘The Defenders?’”

“Oooooh, yeah, I like that!” Slingshot said, standing up and flexing his arms dramatically. “The Mighty Defenders of Earth.”

Allura tilted her head. “Hm, I don’t know, I’d like to think we’re defenders of more than just Earth. After all, this planet became a beacon of hope within the galaxy and even for those outside this galaxy when its heroes defeated the Kalmari. So what about… the Defenders of the Universe?”

Everyone considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement. Shiro smiled, looking over his team with pride.

“Defenders of the Universe, huh? That’s got a nice ring to it.”

* * *

Late that night, when Shiro finally flew back home, he was utterly exhausted. The day’s events were finally catching up with him and all he wanted to do was fall into his bed.

So, that’s exactly what he did. He took the quickest shower of his life, threw on a pair of sweatpants, and by the time his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.

He woke some time later in the early morning hours. He groaned and rubbed his flesh hand over his face, unsure what had woken him up. Then, he heard knocking at his front door and groaned again as he sat up to go answer the door, still half-asleep.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he muttered, as the knocking continued.

He unlocked his door and swung it open to reveal Keith with his hand raised in a fist.

“Keith?” Shiro asked, leaning against the doorway, brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here, it’s…” He glanced back at the clock in his living room, squinting at it in the dark. “Four in the morning. Are you okay?”

“Shiro, I…” Keith started then stopped.

Shiro re-focused on Keith, taking in his disheveled appearance, the exhaustion written across his entire form, the nervous tilt of his mouth. Suddenly, Shiro wasn’t feeling quite so tired anymore.

“Keith… come in,” Shiro said, opening the door wider.

Shiro walked into his living room, grabbing a hoodie he’d left on his couch and slipping it on over his bare chest, zipping it up halfway. He turned back towards Keith, who was still standing in Shiro’s foyer, looking uncertain.

“Keith?” Shiro asked softly.

Keith lifted his head and met Shiro’s eyes. Shiro smiled softly and held out his hand, asking silently for Keith to join him. Keith took a hesitant step towards him before something seemed to solidify in his mind and he closed the distance between them quickly.

Instead of taking a seat on the couch like Shiro had intended, though, Keith grabbed his outstretched hand. Shiro made a questioning noise, eyes going from their joined hands to Keith’s face rapidly. He could feel his heart begin to beat faster, heat rising up his chest and into his cheeks.

“Shiro,” Keith said, voice somehow both soft and gruff, distantly reminding Shiro of something.

When Keith didn’t say anything else, Shiro slowly lifted the hand Keith wasn’t holding and placed it on top of their joined hands.

“Keith? Are you okay?” Suddenly, Shiro remembered that Keith was a first responder. “Were you there for that villain attack today? You weren’t hurt, were you?”

Keith shook his head, squeezing Shiro’s hand. “No, I’m… I’m fine. That’s not…”

Keith made a frustrated noise deep in his throat and dropped his chin to his chest, eyes squeezed shut. Shiro frowned in concern, but didn’t want to push too hard. Instead, he started rubbing his thumb over the top of Keith’s hand comfortingly.

After a few moments of deep breathing, Keith finally raised his head and looked Shiro in the eye.

“Shiro,” he said, voice a little wobbly, but holding strong. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Shiro’s stomach dropped, his mind immediately conjuring all the worst-case scenarios possible. Keith knew he was Guardian and didn’t feel safe around him. Keith was sick. Keith was dying.

“What?” Shiro asked, barely able to push the word past the growing lump in his throat.

“Life…” Keith started, then swallowed, voice growing stronger as he continued. “Life doesn’t give many second chances. It doesn’t pull its punches. People aren’t usually that lucky. So… so, when you get a second chance, you need to grab it with both hands, ‘cause you’re not gonna get a third one. So… so, this is me. Taking my second chance.”

“Keith…” Shiro said, unsure exactly where this was going, but feeling relieved all the same. It didn’t sound like Keith was about to give him bad news.

“Shiro,” Keith said, and Shiro couldn’t look away from his eyes. He could barely breathe, looking into them. “I care about you. _So much._ And I don’t just want to be your friend.”

There was a distant roar building in Shiro’s ears. Sweat was gathering on his upper lip, despite it being a little cold in his apartment, and his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. Keith couldn’t… couldn’t mean…

“I want to be with you, Shiro,” Keith whispered, breath ghosting over Shiro’s face, and when had his face gotten so close?

“I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you,” Keith said, eyes glancing rapidly between Shiro’s eyes and somewhere just below.

And in that moment, Shiro reached a sense of clarity that he’d only felt a handful of times in his life. It was as though all he’d done up till now flashed before his eyes, and suddenly he felt more real, more _here_ than he had a moment before. Like the world had gone from monochrome to technicolor. Like he’d just breached the water after drowning and filled his burning lungs with air.

He looked down at Keith, taking in the fragile hope in his eyes, the faintest quiver to his lips.

He breathed in. He breathed out.

And then he let himself fall.

The kiss was gentle, barely even a press of lips. Keith’s lips were dry and a little chapped, the skin catching against Shiro’s as their lips dragged together. Shiro felt Keith’s breath catch, and he pulled his hands gently from between Keith’s. He reached up and cupped the sides of Keith’s face like he’d been wanting to do for weeks, thumbs sweeping over his cheeks in the sweetest of caresses.

Keith made a sound in the back of his throat and pushed forward, deepening the kiss. He fisted his hands in Shiro’s hoodie, twisting the fabric between his fingers. Shiro made a low, broken noise when Keith’s teeth grazed over his bottom lip. Keith did it again and Shiro couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss even more.

The kiss went on and on, Shiro losing himself in the feel of Keith’s mouth against his own, his tongue wrapping around Shiro’s, his teeth biting at his lips. Slowly, Keith’s hands found their way around Shiro’s shoulders, one climbing up into his hair.

When they finally broke apart, neither went far. Shiro pressed his forehead to Keith’s and just gave himself a moment to breathe. He felt so much at once, his entire body full of emotions that he just needed a moment to process, to catch his breath.

“So, I’m gonna guess you feel the same?” Keith asked, pulling back just enough to look Shiro in the eye.

Shiro laughed and it felt almost like he was about to start crying.

“Yeah, Keith. I feel the same,” he said, and he wasn’t surprised at how shaky his voice was.

Shiro felt his heart stutter at the smile that spread across Keith’s face, gentle and hopeful and full of affection. His chest tightened with emotion, and for a moment Shiro thought he actually would start crying.

There was so much he wanted Keith to know, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to say any of it yet. How did he even begin to explain all that he’d been through, all that he was, without shattering in Keith’s hands?

Because Keith said he was falling in love, but Keith didn’t know the whole truth. He only had half of it. Half the story, half of who Shiro was.

But maybe, for now… that could be enough. For now, Shiro could let it be, let himself love and be loved. Even if it wasn’t the whole truth, it was still real. And Shiro still wanted it.

He’d tell Keith the truth, eventually. When the words wouldn’t get stuck in his throat. When he was sure that Keith wouldn’t hate him for it. When it was safe.

Shiro breathed in. He breathed out.

And then he kissed Keith again.

And again.

And again.


	6. Chapter 6

_5 Months Later_

Shiro was uncomfortable. He was surrounded by people who were way too rich and drinking way too much, and every few minutes, _someone_ was reaching out and touching his wings or arm or chest or ass, like he was some kind of animal up for auction.

It was the 15th anniversary of the Battle of Beijing, and Shiro and his team had been invited to the charity gala hosted by the city of Oriande. Supposedly, it was to raise money for relief work organizations globally, but Shiro personally thought it was just an excuse for a bunch of rich people to get together and brag about how rich they were.

So. He was uncomfortable.

Heat Wave had disappeared the moment they arrived, saying something about checking the perimeter, which Shiro knew meant, ‘I don’t want to talk to any of these people.’ Smart bastard. Shiro wished he’d joined him.

Slingshot, Gadget, and Bulwark had headed straight for the bar when they arrived, Bulwark promising to not let Gadget and Slingshot get too tipsy. Which hadn’t made sense, because Shiro was pretty sure Gadget was only twenty. When he’d asked her, though, she’d muttered something about ‘stupid fucking American laws,’ which was how he’d found out Gadget was apparently Canadian.

Lotor and Allura had stayed with him for a little while, helping take the pressure off of him. They were both very good at keeping the attention on themselves, Allura in her form-fitting, long-sleeved gold dress with a slit all the way up her thigh, and Lotor in his perfectly fitted black suit with gold roses embroidered on the left shoulder and the sleeves.

They made an incredibly attractive couple. Which they were, at this point. They had officially stopped dancing around each other and started dating two months ago, much to the entire team’s relief.

Shiro was happy for them. Though he wasn’t particularly happy _with_ them at the moment because they’d abandoned him nearly half an hour ago to go ‘prepare for their speech.’ _More like ‘go make out in the bathroom,’_ Shiro thought.

Shiro would be happy with having no one touch him, right now. An older woman who had been chatting away at Shiro, apparently completely unconcerned that he’d stopped replying or even making listening noises five minutes ago, was holding onto Shiro’s arm, squeezing it every so often.

He’d tried removing her hands several times, in several different ways, but she just. Wouldn’t. Let. Go. And if Shiro pulled any harder, he might actually end up hurting the woman, which he didn’t really want to deal with.

Just then, a warm hand slid around Shiro’s waist, and he just about burst a blood vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw. Why wouldn’t people stop _touching him?_

But then, the hand moved up to his arm and grabbed the hand of the clinging woman.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Heat Wave’s low, gruff voice rumbled beside him, and Shiro instantly relaxed. “But I need to speak with Guardian. Official hero business, I’m sure you understand.”

He gave the woman the most charming smile he’d ever seen on Heat Wave’s face, and Shiro had to physically hold back his laughter at how forced it looked. The woman bought it, though, hook, line, and sinker.

“Oh, of course,” she tittered, obviously a little drunk. She _finally_ let go of Shiro’s arm, and Shiro didn’t stop himself from immediately taking a step back.

“Have a good night, ma’am,” Shiro said, voice strained.

He turned to rush away but slowed at the feeling of Heat Wave’s hand at the small of his back.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Shiro half whispered, half groaned.

“She looked like she wanted to eat you,” Heat Wave whispered back, sounding like he wanted to laugh.

“I swear, with the way she kept squeezing my arm like I was a piece of meat, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Shiro muttered, and Heat Wave snorted.

“It wasn’t that funny,” Shiro said.

“It’s a little funny now?” Heat Wave said, though his voice lifted at the end, like he felt bad for laughing at Shiro. _As he should_ , Shiro thought.

Shiro sent him a half-hearted glare, not really feeling up for anything more than that. God, but he was drained.

Heat Wave was quiet for a moment and then Shiro felt a tug at his waist, Heat Wave’s hand pulling him in another direction.

“Come on,” Heat Wave said.

Shiro raised an eyebrow in question, but Heat Wave didn’t explain and Shiro didn’t feel like asking. He trusted the man.

Heat Wave didn’t remove his hand as he guided Shiro along the edge of the huge main room of the building the gala was being hosted in. Eventually, they reached a large curtain and slipped through it, out onto a hidden balcony.

A rush of cool air swept over Shiro’s skin, and he groaned in relief. He hadn’t realized how hot and stuffy it had been inside.

Heat Wave finally pulled away, walking over to the edge and leaning his elbows on the railing of the balcony. It looked out over the city, which glowed in the night, and Shiro felt his breath catch like it always did when he looked at Oriande from far away.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Shiro said, joining Heat Wave in leaning against the railing.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Heat Wave turn to look at him, and Shiro glanced over. Their eyes met briefly, and Heat Wave smiled before looking back at the cityscape.

“Yeah. Beautiful,” he finally answered.

Shiro frowned and turned his eyes back towards Oriande, too. Something was… weird. And he’d started to think that maybe things had been weird for a while, now.

Shiro and Keith had been dating for five months. And, apparently, Heat Wave had started seeing someone at the same time. It came out during the debriefing the day after that first group villain attack. Heat Wave had been in an unusually good mood, especially for a man who’d been “lightly” stabbed the day before, and everyone had taken notice.

When questioned about it, Heat Wave had admitted to finally confessing his feelings to someone, and that that someone had reciprocated. Shiro had been surprised, given that the same thing had happened to him that night as well, but he’d been happy for the man.

Bulwark had been surprised, though, by Heat Wave’s ‘someone’ being a man. When Heat Wave had gotten defensive, however, Bulwark had quickly corrected himself and ended up coming out as bisexual to the whole group.

This led to probably one of the most surreal experiences of Shiro’s life.

~

**“I’m nonbinary,” Gadget pipped in. “And demisexual.”**

**“I’m pansexual,” Lotor and Allura said at the same time, both of them whipping around to look at each other in surprise.**

**Everyone burst out laughing at their identical shocked faces, but quickly calmed down when the two started smiling shyly at each other.**

**Slingshot cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. “I’m, uh. Pretty sure I’m straight. Mostly.”**

**“Mostly?” Bulwark asked.**

**Slingshot blushed. “Yeah, mostly,” he repeated, voice cracking a little. He was very obviously not looking at Shiro. And… Heat Wave, too? Well, then.**

**Suddenly, the whole group turned to look at Shiro, almost as one, and he had the ridiculous impulse to take several steps back. He felt his stomach tighten and twist uncomfortably, a lump rising in his throat without his permission.**

**“Stop it,” Heat Wave suddenly snapped, turning everyone’s attention onto him and away from Shiro. “Just because everyone else said something doesn’t mean Guardian has to.”**

**“Yeah, but…” Bulwark of all people said, turning his gaze back to Shiro. “You’re not… gonna be weird about it, are you?”**

**Shiro frowned, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. _Weird? What did Bulwark…? Oh,_ Shiro thought. _He thinks I’m not queer._**

**Shiro straightened his spine, pulling himself up to his full height, and looked Bulwark straight in the eye.**

**“I’m a gay trans man,” he said, voice steady and strong.**

**He glanced around the room, taking in everyone’s reactions. Most of them looked shocked, except for Heat Wave, who just had a small, almost proud smile on his face. Heat Wave stood up and walked over to Shiro, clapping him on the shoulder, smile never leaving his face.**

**Shiro smiled back at him, a warm feeling filling his chest.**

**“Holy shit, we really do travel in packs,” Lotor suddenly blurted, and instantly looked like he regretted it.**

**Shiro burst out laughing, the others joining in, and pretty soon half of them were bent over, wheezing with laughter.**

**~**

It had been strange, but had ultimately brought them all closer together, like most of their bonding experiences.

Heat Wave, though… things were different with him. Shiro could honestly say that, out of everyone on the team, he was closest with Heat Wave. They got along incredibly well, always laughing and smiling around each other. And Heat Wave was always there with a comforting touch or smile when Shiro needed it, and Shiro obviously returned the favor.

But lately… things had started to feel off to Shiro. He couldn’t tell what, but Heat Wave sometimes made him uncomfortable and Shiro didn’t understand why.

Like just a few moments ago, when Heat Wave had looked at Shiro and smiled before answering. It made Shiro feel weird, and he didn’t know why. Heat Wave had just smiled, there was no reason Shiro could come up with for why he felt this way.

Shiro sighed heavily.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Heat Wave asked.

Shiro shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“That sigh makes it sound like something,” Heat Wave countered, and suddenly Shiro felt anger rush through him, hot and loud.

“Just drop it,” he snapped, turning away from the balcony, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

Heat Wave turned to face him slowly. “Guardian?” he asked, voice cautious. Unsure.

And just as suddenly as the anger had come, it drained out of him, leaving him feeling disgusted at himself for snapping. He rubbed a hand over his face and then left it there.

“I’m sorry,” Guardian mumbled into his hand, shoulders drooping in sudden exhaustion. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Heat Wave said, coming up to his side, hand lightly touching his shoulder. “Just… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know,” Shiro groaned, turning to face Heat Wave, forcing him to drop his hand. “I’m just… confused, I guess. And angry.”

Heat Wave swallowed, throat clicking. “Angry at who?”

Shiro laughed, though there wasn’t any humor in it. “Myself, mostly.”

Heat Wave nodded. “I know how that feels,” he said, voice soft.

Shiro made a concerned sound and finally looked back at Heat Wave. For once, the man wasn’t watching him, instead staring back out at the city lights.

“I still haven’t told my boyfriend I’m Heat Wave, you know,” he suddenly said in a rush, and Shiro felt his insides freeze up like Heat Wave himself had reached inside and iced his organs.

 _That sounds familiar, doesn’t it_ , Shiro thought bitterly at himself.

“Oh?” he asked, instead of mentioning any of this.

“He only knows me by my civilian identity. He has _no_ _idea_ what I actually do. Five months we’ve been dating, and I still haven’t told him,” Heat Wave said, and he actually sounded angry.

“And it’s not like I’m not sure about how I feel about him,” Heat Wave continued. “I know I love him, that I could love him for the rest of my life. But… I don’t know if _he_ could love _me_ , especially since I’ve been lying to him practically since the day we met.”

“He’d… probably forgive you,” Shiro said, his limbs suddenly feeling a little weak. This was all way too close to home. “I mean, he’d probably understand why you would be hesitant to share your secret identity.”

Heat Wave made a frustrated sound. “But it’s not even just that. I… I know something about him, too. Something big. But he doesn’t _know_ that I know, and he hasn’t told me himself, so I’m just here, _knowing things_ and he doesn’t know about any of it, and I just keep smiling and spending time with him like nothing is wrong. Like I’m not a completely shit boyfriend who _lies to his face_.”

Heat Wave laughed darkly, no real humor in the sound. “And you know what the worst part is? The reason why I don’t tell him the truth? Because I’m _afraid_. Because I know I’m betraying his trust, I know I’m lying to his face, and when he finds out, it’s going to hurt him _so much_. And I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want him to hate me, so I don’t say anything. Even though, the longer I wait, the worse everything gets. The harder it is to tell the truth.”

The silence after his tirade was deafening. There was a slight tremor in Shiro’s hands, so he pressed them to the railing, forcing them to still.

“I haven’t told my boyfriend I’m Guardian, either,” Shiro eventually said. “I’ve never told anyone, actually. The only person who knew me as both myself and Guardian was my mentor, but he were the previous Guardian and also my grandfather, so that doesn’t count.”

“No one at all?” Heat Wave asked, sounding choked.

“Nope,” Shiro said, sighing. “You?”

“My mom,” Heat Wave said after a moment.

“How’d she take it?” Shiro asked.

“She said, and I quote, ‘Fuckin’ aces, kid.’”

Shiro snorted. “Wow.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty great,” Heat Wave said, smiling for a brief moment.

“It’s scary, though, right?” Shiro said. “Telling someone?”

“Terrifying,” Heat Wave rasped.

Shiro sighed and shook his head. “Sometimes, I’m so jealous of Lotor and Allura, you know? They don’t have to hide that kind of thing. They don’t have secret identities, and they’re _both_ superheroes, so they know the other person can protect themselves from the kind of threats we face. There’s none of this fear or anxiety or uncertainty to it. It’s… simpler.”

“Do you… do you wish you were dating a superhero?” Heat Wave asked.

Shiro laughed. “I… I dunno? I mean, I love my boyfriend just the way he is, I wouldn’t want to change him, but… if he suddenly became a superhero or something? That… well, it’d be pretty incredible, huh?”

Heat Wave was quiet for a long moment, and then Shiro felt a gentle touch against the back of his hand. He looked down to see Heat Wave’s hand laying on top of his, and when he looked back up, the question forming on his lips quickly died.

Heat Wave was close, so incredibly close. His eyes were darting over Shiro’s face, and Shiro felt his hand tighten over the top of his own.

“Guardian, I…” Heat Wave started to say, voice gruffer than usual.

Shiro stared at him, frozen in place, waiting to see what Heat Wave would say. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned forward, like he was going to kiss Shiro.

Shiro reacted immediately, wrenching his hand out of Heat Wave’s grasp and backing away rapidly. His heart was racing and his breathing was coming too fast. The first thing he felt was confusion, then betrayal, anger, and finally settling on a deep kind of hurt he’d never felt before.

Heat Wave looked utterly stricken, his hand reaching out towards him. “Guardian,” he said, voice breaking.

All Shiro could do was shake his head silently before it all became too much and he turned tail and ran. He heard Heat Wave call after him, but ignored him, focusing on getting far, far away from the entire situation.

He didn’t remember exactly how, but somehow he made it out the back of the building and then he was in the air, flying towards Oriande. He flew for hours, so long his face was numb from the cold by the time he landed on the roof of a random building.

He sat down on the ledge with a heavy sigh, letting his feet dangle. He was so fucking confused. Heat Wave had _just_ been talking about how much he cared about and didn’t want to hurt his boyfriend, and then he tried to kiss Shiro? What was that about?

He wondered, briefly, if Heat Wave had an open relationship with his boyfriend, but he dismissed the idea. Heat Wave had never mentioned such a thing, and he definitely talked about his boyfriend like they were monogamous. And anyways, _Shiro_ and _Keith_ were definitely _not_ in an open relationship, so Heat Wave shouldn’t have tried to kiss him.

His mind looped back around to that, because why the _hell_ had Heat Wave tried to kiss him? He… he honestly would never have pegged Heat Wave as the kind of guy who would even consider cheating, let alone act on it. But tonight proved otherwise.

Shiro groaned. His head was starting to pound.

Impulsively, he decided to check his phone, suddenly wanting nothing more than to talk to Keith and forget all about everything that happened at that gala.

Shiro smiled when he turned his phone on to find a text from Keith, time stamped ten minutes ago.

KEITH: _hey babe u home?_

Shiro glanced around to try and figure out where he was. He seemed to be on the lower West side of Oriande, so only about a ten minute flight from home. He slipped his leather gloves off to reply.

SHIRO: _I should be home soon._

He hesitated for a moment, before sending another message.

SHIRO: _I know it’s late, but can I come over?_

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

KEITH: _ofc. r u ok?_

Shiro couldn’t stop a fond smile from spreading across his face, endlessly smitten with Keith’s way of texting. He also felt warmed by his concern, and Shiro knew he’d made the right choice in asking.

SHIRO: _I don’t know._

He answered truthfully, not really sure how he felt about any of it anymore. Was he okay? No, probably not.

KEITH: _u want 2 talk abt it baby?_

Something fragile unfurled in Shiro’s chest, and he wanted to just wrap himself up in that feeling and never let it go.

SHIRO: _No, not tonight. I honestly just want to eat ice cream and cuddle with you._

KEITH: _well my ice cream is ready 2 b eaten and my couch is ready 2 b cuddled on : )_

Shiro laughed and he suddenly felt lighter than he had all night. He slipped his phone back into his pouch and stood up, taking flight and turning towards home.

Someday soon, he’d tell Keith the truth. But for now, he had ice cream and a cuddly boyfriend waiting for him.

* * *

For the next two weeks, Shiro avoided Heat Wave. They had group training the next day, and Heat Wave had tried to talk to him afterwards, but Shiro had made a flimsy excuse and left. He’d almost not gone to movie night, but had ultimately decided that he didn’t want to screw up team morale just because he and Heat Wave were… whatever they were doing.

However, he apparently didn’t need to worry, because Heat Wave didn’t show up to movie night. Or dinner night the next Wednesday. In fact, outside of group training, Shiro didn’t see Heat Wave at all. He thought maybe Heat Wave was avoiding him, too.

He tried to push it out of his mind, at least for now. He didn’t want to think about how he might have just lost one of his best friends. It hurt, and though he knew avoiding an issue wasn’t the healthiest way of dealing with things, he just didn’t want to face the truth quite yet.

It was especially hard, though, because Keith’s schedule had become very mismatched with Shiro’s own. For the past two weeks, he and Keith had only spoken to each other through text messages and the occasional short phone call. He ached, a little, with how much he missed spending time with Keith, but luckily, he didn’t have to wait any longer to see his boyfriend.

It was Keith’s birthday, and Shiro had been waiting in excited anticipation for it for weeks. He’d gone out that morning to pick up the cake he’d ordered for Keith and was on his way back to his apartment when he got a call.

He rearranged the way he was holding the box in order to dig his phone out of his jean pocket. He smiled when he saw the caller ID.

“Happy Birthday,” he answered in a sing-song voice.

“Ugh, do you have to?” Keith asked, making Shiro laugh.

“Oh, come on,” Shiro said, beginning to walk down the street again. “You don’t really hate your birthday as much as you say you do, right?”

Keith sighed into the receiver. “I don’t _hate_ my birthday, it’s just… not my favorite day. And you _know_ why I feel like that.”

“I know, Keith,” Shiro said, gentling his voice. “But… I want to make this day _good_ for you again. You deserve to be happy on your birthday.”

“I… thanks, Shiro. I appreciate it, I do,” Keith said.

Shiro smiled. “So, what did you want to talk about? I’m assuming you called for a reason? I mean, I’m almost home with the cake, and then I was gonna order takeout from that Indian place you love so much, but I can come over first if you needed to talk?”

Shiro heard Keith take a deep breath. “Uh. Yeah, actually, could you? I… I have something I need to tell you.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s…,” Keith sighed. “It’s complicated, really. And I don’t want to get into it over the phone, ‘cause I need to do this face-to-face.”

“Keith…” Shiro started, a knot of dread building in his stomach.

“It’s not… I’m not, like, breaking up with you, or sick, or dying, or anything like that,” Keith explained. “I know you worry about that kind of thing… but it’s, uh, it’s not anything like that.”

“Um, okay?” Shiro said, still feeling unsure. “Are you sure you’re okay, Keith?”

“I’m…” Keith started, but then there was a loud, resounding _boom_ , like an explosion.

Shiro whipped around to look for the source and almost immediately saw where the sound had come from.

“Oh my god,” Shiro whispered, real true fear gripping him by the throat.

“Shiro, what was that?” Keith asked, Shiro hearing him as though from a great distance. “Did you hear that, too?”

Shiro couldn’t answer for a moment, his mouth opening and closing without any sound coming out as he stared in horror at the scene before him.

Above the city, close to its center, was a massive rip in the sky. Through it, Shiro could distantly see the stars of another galaxy, and _something_ writhing in the darkness. Waiting.

The Kalmari.

Finally, Shiro found his voice. “Keith, stay inside, do you understand?” Shiro asked, dropping the cake and making for the nearest alleyway.

“Shiro, what? What’s going on?”

“Promise me you’ll stay inside!” Shiro shouted.

“Tell me what’s going on!” Keith yelled back.

“It’s the Kalmari,” Shiro said. “I’d recognize that wormhole _anywhere_. Keith, please, promise me you’ll stay inside, that you’ll hide. That you’ll stay _safe_.”

“Shiro—”

“ _Please_ , Keith,” Shiro begged.

“I- I- yeah, okay, but Shiro—” Keith stuttered, but Shiro interrupted him.

“I’ve gotta go,” Shiro said before hanging up.

He turned sharply into the alleyway, looked briefly behind him to make sure no one was looking, and then transformed into Guardian. He immediately took off, heading straight for Blade HQ, eyes never quite leaving the ominous rip in the sky.

When he was almost to Blade HQ, he had the sudden, gut-wrenching realization that he hadn’t told Keith he loved him. He’d been building up to it, wanting to tell Keith on his birthday, but now… He didn’t have time to call Keith back. He’d just have to tell him when this was over.

He landed on the roof of Blade HQ, Bulwark, Slingshot, and Princess Allura already waiting there along with Director Kolivan and a handful of Blade agents.

Allura stepped forward to greet Shiro, a hardened look in her eyes.

“It’s the Kalmari again,” she said.

“I know,” Shiro replied, fists clenching. “But how? I thought Antimatter wiped out their entire army when he destroyed the portal.”

Allura shook her head. “I have no idea.”

Kolivan stepped forward. “We’ve already issued evacuation orders at the city’s center, and we’ve advised that all other civilian stay inside and away from windows.”

“Has the military been called, yet?” Shiro asked, eyes darting from Kolivan back to the portal.

“They’re organizing,” Kolivan replied.

“Why haven’t they come through, yet?” Slingshot asked, voice hesitant.

“The portal appears to still be stabilizing,” Lotor replied, landing on the roof in his armor. Gadget, who’d apparently hitched a ride, hopped off his back.

“The readings we’re getting from that thing are crazy,” Gadget said, looking down at a devise in her hand. “It’s nothing like the portal in Beijing.”

“So, basically, we’re not gonna be able to close it the same way,” Shiro said, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t say that,” Gadget said, adjusting her goggles. “Give me a bit, and I’m sure I can get us enough information to be able to close it.”

“You better make it fast, Gadget,” Bulwark said, then pointed out at the sky.

Everyone turned to look and saw that something huge was beginning to slip through the portal.

A warship.

“Alright, team,” Shiro said, body tensing for takeoff. “Assemble!”

They all took off, Gadget hitching a ride with Lotor and Allura carrying Bulwark, while Slingshot stretched and swung from building to building.

“Where’s Heat Wave?” Slingshot asked over the coms.

“I don’t know,” Shiro said, stomach twisting guiltily as it’d done every time the hero had come up for the past two weeks. “I’m sure he’ll catch up with us, soon.”

Ahead of them, the massive warship was already a quarter of the way out of the portal, and Kalmari soldiers began pouring out of the ship on flying chariot-type vehicles.

Shiro sped up, lightning crackling around him, and flew directly into the Kalmari’s midst. Soon, he was completely immersed in the battle, his entire world narrowing down to the feel of lightning arcing across his skin, the sound of alien shrieks and his own heavy breathing, the salty taste of his own sweat.

He stayed aware of where his teammates were, stepping in when they needed his help, or calling for one of them to help him instead. At one point, Shiro had ended up on top of a building with Bulwark. A Kalmari had tried to attack Shiro while his back was turned, but Bulwark had thrown a disc-shaped force field and cut the Kalmari in half. They’d only had time to exchange a nod before jumping back into the fray.

On the ground, Shiro had noted a number of Blade agents running around, holding the Kalmari back while police helped citizens evacuate the city’s center. The Defenders did what they could to keep the Kalmari’s attention away from them, but without the Blade agents, there would have been a lot more casualties already.

Nearly an hour into the battle, and Heat Wave still hadn’t shown up. Shiro was starting to feel annoyed, wondering what could be keeping the man. They could really use his high-powered attacks right about now, because things weren’t looking good. Somehow, the Kalmari seemed to be rapidly learning how to anticipate their attacks, and slowly but surely, the Defenders were losing ground.

Shiro was starting to get really fucking worried. The portal was bigger than the one in Beijing had been. The Kalmari were wearing thicker, stronger armor, and their flying chariots were faster than fifteen years ago.

Things weren’t looking good.

Then, suddenly, a voice rang out across the coms.

“Sorry I’m late, everybody,” Heat Wave said, smile evident in his voice.

“Where the hell have you been?” Slingshot yelled.

“Better yet, where they hell are you now? I don’t see you,” Gadget said.

“Heh, try lookin’ up, to the East,” Heat Wave answered.

Shiro turned to look for him, eyes scanning until a familiar red and black suit caught his eye and his jaw dropped.

“What the fuck are you riding, Heat Wave?” Shiro asked.

The hero was on what looked like a flying motorcycle, the sides painted red and white. It was reminiscent and yet wholly different from the hovercrafts the Kalmari were using. A number of Kalmari rushed him, only to get frozen solid or burned to a crisp, not even getting close.

“Something Blade cooked up,” Heat Wave replied. “Speaking of, I’ve got a little somethin’ for that wormhole. Think you guys can clear me a path?”

“Heat Wave, what are you doing?” Shiro asked.

“Blade made a bomb using the data they gathered from when Antimatter closed the portal back in Beijing. From what they’ve gathered about this portal, it should work. I need to get it through the portal and set it off. This might be our only chance at stopping these guys.”

Slingshot cursed. “That’s a suicide mission, you asshole!”

“Heat Wave, don’t. We can find another way,” Shiro reasoned.

“You know we don’t have time,” Heat Wave said, voice coming out harsh. “We’re outnumbered already, and the longer we take to close the portal, the more people are going to die.”

He paused. “This is the only way, Guardian,” he said, voice softer.

There was silence across the coms for a long moment. Shiro couldn’t think of a reply, couldn’t come up with a way to convince Heat Wave not to do this, especially when he knew that what Heat Wave was saying was the truth.

“We’ve got your back, Heat Wave,” Lotor finally answered.

“We’ll clear you a path,” Allura pipped in.

“Godspeed, you crazy motherfucker,” Slingshot muttered.

“Thanks you,” Heat Wave said, voice gruff with emotion. “It’s been an honor working with you all.”

“Heat Wave…” Bulwark said.

Shiro could only watch as he sped closer to the portal, Allura and Lotor working alongside him to keep the Kalmari back.

Shiro knew he should get in there, should help, too, instead of standing there frozen in fear, but he just… he _couldn’t._

“Hey,” Heat Wave’s voice came through Shiro’s com, quiet and more reserved than before.

It took Shiro a moment to realize he’d opened a private com link with Shiro.

“Heat Wave, please,” Shiro said, voice dangerously close to begging. “Don’t do this.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” Heat Wave said, and for some reason that struck a chord deep in Shiro.

“Heat Wave…” Shiro said, voice breaking.

Heat Wave was close, now, dodging more and more Kalmari. Only a little bit further and he’d be through.

“Guardian, I have to tell you something,” Heat Wave said in a rush.

“Heat Wave, what—”

“Please, just let me,” Heat Wave interrupted, then grunted, swerving to miss a side swipe from a Kalmari hovercraft. “I’m sorry, about what happened at the gala. I acted without thinking, and I didn’t explain anything, and—”

“Heat Wave, it’s okay,” Shiro said. “I forgive you.”

Heat Wave was almost to the portal.

“Guardian… _Shiro_ ,” Heat Wave said, like the word was ripped from his chest.

Suddenly, Shiro couldn’t breathe. Time seemed to slow, the only sound the rushing of his own blood in his ears and the shudder of Heat Wave’s breathing.

 _No… not Heat Wave,_ Shiro thought.

“I love you,” Keith whispered like a promise, then disappeared through the portal.

Shiro’s legs suddenly went out from under him. Distantly, he heard someone yell his name, but everything felt far away, like he was deep underwater. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the portal where Keith had disappeared.

Because Keith was Heat Wave.

Somewhere in the back of Shiro’s mind, behind the static that had taken over the moment Shiro had fallen to his knees, things were rearranging themselves. It made sense, that Keith was Heat Wave, that Heat Wave was Keith. All the little moments that Shiro had brushed aside, the guilt Keith seemed to harbor, what had happened at the gala… It was so obvious.

The embarrassment he’d usually feel over such a realization didn’t come, Shiro’s mind too busy reeling over the fact that Keith had just disappeared into the portal with a bomb. A bomb he was going to set off. On a mission he was almost guaranteed not to come back from.

He felt something shaking him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the portal, waiting. Hoping.

“Please,” he whispered like a prayer.

“Guardian!” He heard Gadget yell somewhere beside him, but everything was still so far away.

Then, there was a blinding flash of light on the other side of the portal. All of the Kalmari suddenly fell, their ships going out of control and crashing into the ground or buildings. Out of the corner of his eye, Shiro say Allura and Lotor move to catch the warship as it began to fall, but his eyes were still locked on the now rapidly closing portal.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged, voice cracking.

Right before the portal closed, something black and red fell through, and Shiro was on his feet and in the air before he could even take his next breath.

He caught Keith on a roll, cradling him to his chest and quickly descending to the street. He landed gracelessly, stumbling to his knees and laying Keith down on his lap, hands immediately going to his neck, desperate to find a pulse.

“Please, please, please,” Shiro repeated, over and over.

He couldn’t feel anything through his gloves, so he ripped them off, hands shaking as he gently pressed his fingers to Keith’s throat.

A faint heartbeat, but his chest wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing.

Shiro quickly laid him flat on the ground, then tilted his head, lifted his chin, and leaned forward to breathe into his mouth. He did this several times before Keith suddenly gasped, jerking on the ground before stilling with a groan.

A broken off sob left Shiro’s mouth as he placed his hand on Keith’s chest, feeling it rise and fall. He slowly leaned forward until his head was resting beside his hand on Keith’s chest, and for a long moment, all Shiro could think, over and over, was, _He’s alive._

_He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive._

* * *

Keith was put in the same room in Blade’s medical bay as that first time he’d gotten hurt. Shiro wondered, distantly, if this was Keith’s unofficial room. Or, Heat Wave’s room. He was still wrapping his head around that.

There was a TV mounted into the wall in the corner that was playing the news, everyone talking about the attack that had started only four short hours ago. Shiro was only half listening to what the woman on the screen was saying about the most recent attack by the Kalmari, mind too muddled and distracted to pay attention.

“Sources are claiming that the Kalmari that attacked today were different from the aliens that attacked Beijing fifteen years ago. Lotor Galra, aka Sincline, addressed this during the brief press conference held only half an hour ago.”

A video of Lotor, Allura, Slingshot, and Director Kolivan standing in front of a crowd of reporters in front of Blade HQ looking roughed up and dirty popped up on screen.

“ _These Kalmari were very different, biologically, from the Kalmari that attacked in Beijing. These seemed to operate with a sort of hive mind, so when Heat Wave destroyed their fleet and closed the portal, they, essentially, went brain dead,”_ Lotor said.

“ _What happened to Heat Wave and Guardian? Did Heat Wave survive?”_ One reporter called out.

“ _Both are alive and currently indisposed,”_ Kolivan answered.

The screen cut back to the newsroom, and the reporter was joined by a man now, the two beginning to discuss the press conference. Shiro stopped listening, though, when a soft groan sounded beside him.

Shiro turned his head and watched as Keith scrunched his face up, head lolling to the side, before his eyes finally fluttered open.

“Shi-ro?” Keith asked, voice scratching and dry.

Shiro grabbed the glass of water from Keith’s side table, bringing the glass closer to him so he could take a few sips through the straw.

“Better?” Shiro asked when he’d nearly finished the glass.

“Yeah, thank you,” Keith replied, voice clearer. He leaned back in his pillows, looking tired just from sitting up a little. “What happened?”

“We won,” Shiro said, sitting back down in his chair at Keith’s side. “The bomb worked, and the portal closed. You did it.”

Keith sighed, relieved. “Good, good…”

He got quiet, and Shiro thought he was nodding off at first, but then he jerked back up, looking at Shiro with wide eyes.

“You’re Shiro!”

“I… yes?” Shiro said, not sure how to respond. “Did you hit your head when I wasn’t looking? The doctors didn’t say anything about a concussion…”

“No, I meant. We’re in Blade headquarters, and you’re not all,” Keith waved his hand in front of him. “Guardian.”

“Oh,” Shiro said. “Yeah, I know.”

He’d transformed right there in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by his teammates and a number of Blade agents. Blade medical personnel had come for Keith, and Shiro had wanted— _needed_ —to go with him, but he couldn’t fit in the medical van with his wings.

He couldn’t go as Guardian. So he’d transformed back into Shiro.

He would have to deal with that fallout at some point, but for now, he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Oh…” Keith replied, voice small now. “Um. Okay.”

Quiet stretched between them, almost deafening. Keith’s fingers fiddled with the blanket lying over him, and Shiro saw him keep sneaking glances at him.

“How long had you known?” Shiro finally asked, breaking the silence.

Keith didn’t have to ask what Shiro meant. He swallowed. “A long time.”

“When?” Shiro pressed.

“That day we talked on the roof as Heat Wave and Guardian,” Keith admitted. “That’s when I was sure.”

Shiro leaned forward, elbow resting on Keith’s bed, and pressed his face into his hands.

“Fuck,” he said, quiet but with feeling.

“Shiro…” Keith said, voice hesitant. “I- I never meant to hurt you. I…”

“ _Why_ didn’t you _tell me_?” Shiro asked, and his voice sounded wretched and broken. Betrayed.

“I…” Keith started, and tears had gathered in his eyes. He squeezed them shut, a few slipping past his eyelashes and down his cheeks.

“I don’t _know_ ,” he said, voice just as wrecked as Shiro’s. “At first, it was all so new, and I liked you _so much_ and I just… if things didn’t work out between you and _Keith_ , then at least Heat Wave would still have Guardian, you know?”

Keith was crying in earnest now, breath shuddering in his chest. “And then we started dating, and god, Shiro, you were just… the _best_ thing that ever happened to me, and I was so _scared_ , I didn’t want to ruin it.”

He looked up at Shiro, and Shiro could feel the pressure behind his own eyes building, a lump already lodged in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

“And then I just… I kept pushing it off, kept making excuses, and-and-and I don’t _know_ why, but every time I opened my mouth to tell you, the words would get stuck in my throat and I just, I _couldn’t_.”

More tears slid down Keith’s cheeks, and Shiro wanted to reach out and wipe them away, but he held himself back, fists clenching in the blanket over Keith’s bed.

“And the gala?” Shiro asked.

“God, I have no idea what came over me,” Keith said, shaking his head. “I acted without thinking, and then before I could explain, you were gone, and _god_ , Shiro, your face…” His voice broke. “I could see how much I hurt you.”

“And after?” Shiro pressed, and he was crying now, too. “You held me in your _arms_ , Keith, like nothing had even happened.”

Keith sobbed, then bit his lip like he was trying to keep the broken sounds inside. “I fucked up. I’d fucked up so bad, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I needed time to _think_ , and-and I wanted to give _you_ time, and it was all just so _fucked_.”

Shiro pushed his fingers into his hair and pulled at the strands, staring at Keith’s blanket and not meeting his eyes.

“Shiro,” Keith said brokenly. “I’m _so_ sorry. I fucked up so bad, I hurt you, and god, I _never_ wanted to hurt you. But-but I did, and I’m so sorry. I’m just so fuckin’ sorry. I’m so sorry, Shiro. I’m so sorry.”

Shiro breathed in deeply, breath shuddering on its way in, and then out. He did this a few times until his heart stopped racing and he’d stopped crying. He gave himself a moment, just to breathe and to think about what he felt.

Anger and betrayal, that he’d lied to him for so long. Hurt, that he hadn’t trusted him. Shame and guilt, that he hadn’t told Keith the truth, either.

But then there was the relief that Keith was alive. Excitement and comfort, that Keith was a hero, too. Joy, that his two best friends were the same person. Love…

Images, feelings, and sounds flashed through Shiro’s mind. Keith’s head thrown back in laughter. The way Keith’s eyes had shone in the candle light on their first date. The first time Keith reached out and entwined his fingers with Shiro’s. The first time Shiro woke up with Keith in his bed. Every time they’d traced each other’s scars in reverence of the fact they were both still alive.

All the times they’d hugged or cuddled or kissed or made love, each instance flew through his mind, but now they were accompanied by other memories.

His talks with Heat Wave on various roofs. Their banter and playful teasing. Heat Wave’s intense desire to do good, to save lives, no matter the cost to himself. The way Heat Wave seemed to bloom the more time he spent with his team. The way Heat Wave always looked at Guardian like he was proud.

The two twisted together into one whole image, and Shiro realized that, for all it hurt, the truth was something… beautiful. Wonderful. Freeing. And the pain didn’t change the way he felt.

He still loved Keith. The truth didn’t change that. None of this changed that.

Finally, he lifted his head and turned to face Keith.

“I forgive you,” Shiro said softly, and instantly felt lighter.

Because it was the truth. He really did forgive Keith. For all the pain and confusion, for all the issues they still had to work on, Shiro loved Keith. And for once, love was enough.

Fresh tears fell down Keith’s cheeks, and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

Shiro reached out and gently laid his hand on top of Keith’s. Keith immediately grabbed on and squeezed Shiro’s hand with both of his. Shiro squeezed back, a small smile forming. Keith looked at him with something akin to awe and smiled back, hesitant and hopeful.

“I know this is probably bad timing, but…” Keith said, after they’d been sitting in silence, holding hands, for several long minutes. He looked up at Shiro with a gentle smile, tears finally starting to dry.

“I love you, Shiro.”

Shiro smiled back, a spark of mischief somehow worming its way into his chest and giving him an idea.

“I know,” he replied.

Keith frowned, and then he jaw dropped as it clicked.

“Did you just _Han Solo me?_ ” he asked incredulously.

Shiro burst out laughing, the sound bubbling out of him and then not stopping. Keith stared at him and shook his head, expression fluctuating between disbelief and amusement.

“I cannot believe you just fuckin’ Han Solo’ed me,” Keith said, though he was grinning at Shiro.

Shiro laughed even harder, gripping Keith’s hand tightly and pressing his face into hospital bed. He could feel Keith begin to shake with laughter, too, and soon they were both gone. There was an edge of hysteria from the emotional and physical exhaustion they were both suffering, but neither of them acknowledged it, too caught up in the joy of the moment.

Keith’s laughter finally subsided and he looked down at Shiro, still laying across his bed, and smiled. “You’re so…”

“Wonderful? Perfect? The light of your life?” Shiro supplied, expecting Keith to roll his eyes and scoff like always.

Instead, his eyes softened and a gentle smile lifted the corner of his lips. “Yeah.”

Shiro smiled, heart suddenly feeling too big for his chest, mind a little dizzy with happiness. For want of anything else to do, he pulled their joined hands closer to him and pressed a kiss to the back of Keith’s hand.

“I love you, too,” Shiro whispered.

And as Shiro looked up into the bright, happy, _loving_ smile that spread across Keith’s face, he knew, from the bottom of his heart, that they were going to be just fine.


	7. Epilogue

_Two and a Half Years Later_

Shiro looked in the mirror and straightened his tie for probably the thirtieth time that morning. He technically didn’t need to be dressed for another few hours at least, but he’d had a nightmare the night before that his suit didn’t fit, so he’d put it on just to make sure.

Of course it fit perfectly.

Shiro took a moment to admire himself in the mirror. It was the nicest clothing he’d ever worn, and it made him feel incredible. Had him standing up a little straighter and holding his head a little higher.

The jacket, pants, and vest were all a deep, almost shimmering purple with black lapels and accents. Underneath was a white button up with a black bowtie, and on his feet were shiny black oxfords.

Suddenly Shiro’s phone alert went off, making him jump. He walked over to his dresser and picked his phone up, checking his news alert.

ARMED BANK ROBBERS: POLICE GIVE CHASE THROUGH CITY, CIVILIANS ADVISED TO STAY INSIDE

“Bank robbers, huh?” Shiro muttered to himself. He lifted his head to look at the ceiling. “DAYAK, what can you tell me about this?”

“At 10:43AM, three masked individuals with automatic weapons entered the Central branch of White Lion Bank. No civilians were injured during the attack, and the thieves fled the scene 10 minutes later with approximately $70,000. The police are currently engaged in a high speed car chase with the masked men, who have opened fire on police.”

“Central branch, huh? That’s not far from the tower. Think you can give me an estimate of where they’ll be 3 minutes from now?” Shiro asked, walking towards the balcony off his and Keith’s living room.

“Of course,” DAYAK responded, almost sounding insulted at the insinuation that there was something she couldn’t do. “But might I remind you of your plans for this afternoon?”

Shiro checked his watch. “I’ve got time.”

“If you say so,” DAYAK replied in a judgmental tone. “You can intercept the chase on the corner of 23rd St. and West Arus Ave.”

“Thanks, DAYAK,” Shiro called over his shoulder before transforming in a flash of crackling lightning into Guardian.

He took off from his apartment on the 61st floor of Galra Tower and flew swiftly towards his destination. It wasn’t long until he could hear the sound of gunfire, and when he rounded the corner he saw the bank robbers barreling down the street, five police cars in hot pursuit.

Shiro didn’t waste any time, gathering lightning around him as the robbers raced down the street, preparing to fry the car’s battery. However, before he could release the lightning, a wall of ice suddenly arced in a semi-circle around the robber’s car, forcing them to slam on their brakes and blocking any attempt to escape.

The robbers were a little too slow, though, and weren't able to stop before they crashed into the ice, which quickly spread around the car, lifting it up off the ground and trapping the robbers inside. Shiro hovered in the air in shock for a moment before he allowed his lightning to dissipate and glided down to the ground.

A very familiar figure pulled up on a motorcycle next to the robber’s car, hopping off with a casual grace. He forced one of the car doors open, and one of the robbers fell to the ground unconscious. Another scrambled for a gun, but not before Heat Wave got to him, knocking him out with one swift punch. The third man already had both hands up in surrender, gun already discarded.

This all happened before Shiro’s feet even touched the ground, and by the time he was folding his wings behind him, Heat Wave had dragged the other two men out of the car and was tying the three men’s hands behind their backs with zip ties.

Shiro walked over to Heat Wave, arms crossed. “You know, I had that handled.”

Heat Wave glanced up at him, eyes twinkling underneath his mask. “Yeah, because I was handling it.”

Shiro forced himself not to smile. “I could have taken care of this on my own.”

Heat Wave finally stands up straight and walks forward, coming to a stop less than a meter away. He gives Shiro a very obvious once over before meeting his eyes again, eyebrow raised.

“You sure about that, old man?”

Shiro’s jaw dropped. “ _Old man?_ ”

Heat Wave smirked and opened his mouth to say something else, but then a throat was cleared beside them, making them both jump. Several police officers were standing there, waiting to take the robbers into custody.

Shiro and Heat Wave quickly stepped to the side and allowed them to reach the robbers.

“I’m not _old_ ,” Shiro stage whispered to Heat Wave, who turned his head to hide his laughter.

Then Heat Wave turned and walked over to the ice wall he’d created, starting to melt it. After a moment, he knocked his hood back and gave Shiro a flirtatious smile over his shoulder.

“You know, maybe you should _cool_ it before things get too… _heated_ for you, big guy.” He allowed his left hand to momentarily light up with flames before going back to rapidly melting the ice.

Shiro swallowed thickly and licked his lips. “Maybe you can give me hand with that. What are you doing later?”

Heat Wave finished melting the ice still blocking the road and then brushed past Shiro to get back to his bike.

“Sorry, I have a prior engagement,” he said before straddling his bike and kicking up the stand in one fluid movement. He turned the bike around and then glanced over his shoulder with a flirtatious smirk.

“Later, flyboy,” he said. Then, with a salacious wink and a rev of his engine, he took off down the street, tires squealing.

Shiro stared after him with what was probably an extremely dopey grin, heart fluttering in his chest. Then, someone coughed to his left and he was suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone.

“Uh,” Shiro said, then cleared his throat. “Good work, everyone.” He nodded firmly at several of the officers, who weren’t even trying to hide their grins.

Shiro decided to save what little dignity he had left after very obviously flirting with a co-worker on the job and took to the sky. He was considering heading back to the tower, when heard someone call out “Guardian!” below him.

He looped back and landed where he saw a young girl waving at him.

“Did you need help?” Shiro asked her kindly once he'd landed as gently as he could.

The little girl ran up to him and immediately grabbed onto one of the leather straps hanging down from his waist. She looked up at him with teary eyes.

“My kitty won’t come down from the tree,” she said, sniffing.

Shiro placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll get your kitty down. What’s their name?” He guided the little girl back towards the small-ish tree that was growing along the sidewalk.

“Mr. Wiggles,” she replied, still not letting go of the leather strap.

Sure enough, when Shiro looked into the tree, there was a large grey cat with a smooshed face. Fortunately, he was low enough in the tree that Shiro didn’t have to do any awkward climbing with his wings. He reached up and grabbed the cat, gently prying its claws out of the tree while it yowled its displeasure.

It wiggled in his grasp, almost making him drop it twice, but then he finally got the cat out of the tree.

“Mr. Wiggles!” the little girl cried when Shiro handed the cat to her. Shiro was worried for a moment that the cat would scratch her, but instead the cat started purring like a lawn mower, letting the little girl hold him close.

“Thank you, Mr. Guardian!” she said, grinning up at Shiro, who couldn’t hold back his own grin even if he’d tried.

“You’re very welcome,” he said. “Play safe, okay?”

The little girl nodded, already preoccupied with petting her cat. Shiro chuckled then walked a few meters away before taking off into the air again. Before he could even consider turning in the direction of the tower, though, someone else was calling for Guardian’s help. He pulled his phone from his pouch and checked the clock.

“I’ve still got time,” he said, and then he was hopping from good deed to good deed.

He helped an elderly woman bring her groceries to her apartment, stopped and gave a talking to to a group of bullies harassing a little boy, gave said little boy some reassurances, convinced a man holding up a corner store to give up his gun and turn himself in, and held a baby while the mother ran into a laundromat to get her clothes out of the drier.

In the middle of explaining to a tourist family how best to get to White Lion Park, Shiro glanced over and saw the time displayed in a store window. His eyes widened in shock.

“Shit, is that the time?” he asked, then glanced back at the family. “Sorry, uh, I really need to go.” He was already backing away, wings twitching in his impatience to get into the air. “Uh, just remember, it’s a grid system, so you’ll be fine.”

Then, he took off into the air, flying as fast as he could back to Galra Tower. Five minutes later and he was landing on his balcony, transforming back into his suit in a flash of light. He straightened out the suit as he half jogged to the elevator, cursing the entire way.

“Roof, please, DAYAK,” he said, brushing his hands down his suit over and over, suddenly filled with nerves.

A few moments later, he stepped out onto the roof, still nervously tugging at his suit. The elevator was hidden from view of the rest of the roof, but Shiro could hear people on the other side of the wall.

“There you are,” a voice said, and Shiro jerked his head up to see Allura gliding through the doorway leading to the rest of the roof. She was in an elegant pink gown, hair done up in loose curls that bunched around her head and bounced as she walked.

She immediately slapped Shiro’s hands away and started straightening out his suit herself.

“There,” she said when she finishes fussing over his hair. “You look very handsome.”

“Thank you, Allura,” Shiro said sincerely, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Allura smiled up at him. “Of course, Shiro. It’s your big day, after all. I better go tell the musicians that you’re here.”

She disappeared back through the doorway and Shiro took a deep, steadying breath before following her.

There was a large white tent set up, taking over the majority of the open space on the roof. Fairy lights were hung along the edge of the tent, and two flower displays decorated either side of the opening of the tent. Shiro could see the shadows of people moving around inside the tent, the sound of quiet murmuring and the warming up of several instruments permeating the air.

He stood several feet away, mentally psyching himself up to enter the tent, when movement at the corner of the tent caught his eye. He turned and immediately felt like his breath had been punched out of him.

Keith was standing there, hair artfully messy and falling just a little in his eyes. His suit, though, didn’t have a seam out of place. He was wearing black pants and oxfords and a white suit jacket. The jacket's lapels were black with a gold design, which his pocket square tucked into his jacket also had. Underneath the jacket, he wore a white shirt with black buttons and a black bowtie.

He was beyond breathtaking.

“You know,” Keith finally said, after taking his time looking Shiro over. “When you asked me if I was free later, I thought we were doing a cute work flirting thing, not that you’d _actually_ forgotten.”

“I didn’t _forget_ ,” Shiro scrambled to explained, feeling flustered. “It was just… there was a cat stuck in a tree, and then these bullies were chasing this poor kid and I _had_ to intervene, and then—,” Shiro stopped when he noticed Keith smiling at him. “And you’re teasing me, aren’t you.”

Keith laughed, reaching out at taking Shiro’s hands in his own. “I know you didn’t forget. You picked the date after all.”

Shiro smiled and then leaned forward to capture Keith’s lips in a gentle kiss. Keith's hands let go of Shiro's in favor of grabbing hold of his waist, Shiro's own hands migrating up to cup the sides of Keith's neck. When he finally pulled back, they were both grinning.

“Happy three year anniversary, baby,” Shiro said, leaning forward and kissing Keith on the nose, just because he could.

Keith giggled, hands squeezing Shiro’s waist, eyes sparkling in the light of the setting sun. He bumped his nose against Shiro’s, making them both laugh. “Here’s to many more.”

They stood there staring at each other and smiling like loons for several long moments. Shiro lifted a hand and gently brushed his thumb over Keith’s cheek before cradling Keith’s face in his hand. Keith leaned into his hold, turning his head slightly to place a feather-light kiss against Shiro’s palm.

“We’re getting _married_ ,” Shiro said, unable to contain the unbridled joy rising up in his chest.

Keith giggled and swayed into him, somehow bringing them even closer.

Suddenly, Allura stuck her head out of the tent. “Are you two ready?”

Shiro and Keith looked back at each other, and Shiro’s eyes never leaving Keith’s as he answered.

“Absolutely.”

Allura slipped back into the tent, but Shiro and Keith only had eyes for each other. A moment later, music started up from inside the tent, and they finally stepped away from each other, but kept their hands clasped, Keith’s fingers fitting perfectly between his own.

They moved to stand in front of the tent opening, hand-in-hand, waiting for the flaps to open so they could take the first step into their future.

Shiro turned to look at Keith, his heart so full he hardly knew what to do with himself.

“I love you, Keith,” he said, packing all of his feelings into those four words.

Keith turned to him with a wide, happy smile.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a kudo or comment if you enjoyed it, so I know:) this is the longest work I've ever written, so I'm very proud of it!  
> as always, you can find me on tumblr as [sleepyhunk](https://sleepyhunk.tumblr.com/). also, if you'd like to reblog this story, [here](https://sleepyhunk.tumblr.com/post/177682464741/the-whole-truth-just-a-little-to-the-left-sheith) is a link to the fic post on tumblr. finally, if you have any questions about this au or want to hear more about the world-building side of things, don't hesitate to come chat with me on tumblr! there's a whoooole lot that i couldn't fit into this fic directly but that influenced it!
> 
> image references: [Casual Outfits](https://sleepyhunk.tumblr.com/post/177702759376/the-whole-truth-just-a-little-to-the-left) and [Fancy Outfits](https://sleepyhunk.tumblr.com/post/177703009751/the-whole-truth-just-a-little-to-the-left)


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